


Feast or Famine

by amooniesong



Series: Hope is like the sun (if you only believe in it when you can see it, you'll never make it through the night) [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Minecraft Championships RPF, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Amputation, Artificial Insemination, Character Death, Cliffhangers, Dictatorship, Drowning, Established Relationship, Eugenics, F/M, Impressment, M/M, MCC but IRL, Mask and Goggles, Minecraft, Minecraft championships, Platonic Relationships, Rebellion, Revolution, Secret Relationship, Teamwork, Temporary Character Death, Torture, l'manburg, political prisoner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 150,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amooniesong/pseuds/amooniesong
Summary: The Minecraft Championship games are an annual event, attracting sportsmen and women at the top of their abilities to take part in a series of games to test their stamina, teamwork, communication and knowledge of the sport. This year is no different than any other year - although two new competitors going by the names of Tommyinnit and Tubbo will be the youngest competitors that the Championship games have ever seen. Familiar rivalries will take to the world stage, with Technoblade and Dream once again pitted against each other and the famous "Dream Team" split down the middle.Hosted this year in the Independent Nation of L'Manburg, who will come out on top? And will everything go according to plan?
Relationships: Antfrost/Velvet | VelvetIsCake (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Dave | Technoblade, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Niki | Nihachu/Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Series: Hope is like the sun (if you only believe in it when you can see it, you'll never make it through the night) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143500
Comments: 1181
Kudos: 827





	1. The Announcements

Nimble fingers worked quickly, twisting locks of dirty blond hair into a loose braid and pushing it behind one ear as Dream watched his reflection moving in the mirror. He’d never cared too much about his appearance - more focused on the practicality of his hair or his outfit than the aesthetic - but today was different. With his hair looking somewhat less like he’d lost a fight with a rose bush he grabbed his toothbrush, adding some toothpaste to the bristles and running it under water for a moment before he began to brush his teeth. He left the bathroom and paced his home while he did, heading into his living space to take his sculkpad from where it had been charging overnight. Everything in his home was organised, put back in the exact place it had been taken from each time he finished using it and tidied away neatly. He and his home were a strange juxtaposition, but it was the way he was most comfortable and his friends never questioned it. 

Returning to the bathroom he finished brushing his teeth, grabbed a towel to wipe at his face and wake himself a little more before loading up his device and navigating through his apps to find the official Championship page. The countdown flickered ever closer to zero, the familiar jingle playing in the background that Dream found himself humming along to. Forty seven minutes and twelve seconds, which meant he had just enough time to travel across the city to see Sapnap. They could call George together when the teams were announced, and they’d find out together if they’d been lucky enough to be paired up. They had been the previous year and while they hadn’t won together, they’d done well - that was usually enough to prevent the organisers from letting them team twice in a row. While in thought, Dream began to pack a rucksack with his things. He took his sculkpad, pushed a pair of sunglasses onto his nose, grabbed a beanie to cover his hair in the hopes that he’d be marginally less recognisable, before shrugging the bag onto his shoulders and leaving his apartment behind.

A place to live so high up came with so many benefits, but the greatest drawback was something Dream remembered whenever he pressed the call button for the elevator and stood listening to the redstone mechanism at work. He tapped one foot slowly, his fingers fidgeting nervously with his sweatshirt as he thought about what the announcements of the teams would mean for him.

He was _good_ at what he did and he wouldn’t be modest about it. He _knew_ that he was one of the best Minecraft sportsmen in the world. While speedrunning was his strongest suit he’d proven himself time and time again in combat situations, he was a strong leader and when he was with friends he could communicate well. Sure, he was hot headed when things didn’t go his way, but he knew he was a strong player for the most part.

The elevator arrived, doors opening to reveal the metal interior illuminated with End Rods, and Dream stepped inside. Rather than wait and risk someone else joining him - someone that might recognise him and start asking _questions_ \- he pushed the button for the doors to close and let out a breath he’d been holding. His fingers returned to where they’d been previously, twisting fabric between them as he focused on what would happen over the next forty four minutes and seventeen seconds.

First, he’d leave his apartment building. The sun was out that morning so no one would question why he was wearing sunglasses, and with a beanie on his head then he’d have an easier time blending into the crowds of commuters heading to work and teenagers and children heading to school. It wasn’t that he didn’t _like_ the attention that came with being such a high level sportsman, he just didn’t need anyone asking him anything before _he_ found out what team he’d be on. At this point, he knew just as much as everyone else did, but no one would ever take that for an answer.

Dream stopped his thoughts in their tracks, he was distracting himself from trying to calm himself down and that wasn’t going to help. Starting again, he took in another breath and counted to four before slowly exhaling.

First, he’d leave his apartment building. He’d make the short walk to Sapnap’s home - it would take him twenty minutes at most, twenty five if the traffic was bad and he couldn’t jaywalk across a few roads to shave off a few minutes. When he arrived at Sapnap’s they’d call George and they’d wait for the team announcements together. 

Thinking it through made the thought of the next forty two minutes a little less daunting. As he stepped out into the sunshine, feeling his feet hitting against the concrete pathment, Dream joined the bustle of people to walk through the city. As anxious as he felt, the busyness seemed to make it easier to hide and he was thankful for the fact that even if he _wanted_ to stop moving he wasn’t physically able to. The sheer number of people seemed to move as a single mass, stopping at signals like clockwork before beginning to walk again.

He loved city life, and the times he disliked it weren’t enough to ever put him off living where he did.

Eventually he broke away from the main roads, taking a much less crowded shortcut and letting himself enjoy his surroundings. Despite being surrounded by towering buildings and walking through tight back alleys, he could appreciate the artwork that had been created on the brick walls. Of course there were some more crude tags among it all, but seeing his, George and Sapnap’s faces painted carefully was enough to boost his ego. Clearly someone else was hopeful for a return of last year’s teams.

Dream managed to make his way through the city without being spotted, recognised and questioned. As he waited for his second elevator that day he fished in his jean pockets to find the key to Sapnap’s home, deciding that he didn’t want to bother knocking and waiting. His friend would be expecting him, and knowing Sapnap as well as he did he’d probably need waking up. Hearing a chime that signalled the arrival of the elevator Dream stepped back, allowing for people to exit, before he entered. He didn’t want to check the time - too nervous to receive an exact answer - but he calculated that they probably had another twenty minutes before teams would be announced. Twenty more minutes until he had his answer.

On the walk to Sapnap’s he’d considered helping himself to a bowl of cereal or toast when he arrived, but as the elevator began to rise he felt his stomach twisting as nausea and nerves got the best of him. The idea of food and eating was utterly unappealing to him now, he just needed to know.

The doors opened once to let someone else join him, and Dream forced himself to stop looking so anxious. It was by no means an easy feat, and he focused on keeping his breathing steady (not too slow, not too fast, and _definitely_ not noticeable) for the last few seconds of his journey.

As soon as he could he stepped out of the elevator, quickly navigating the smooth granite-floored corridors to find Sapnap’s apartment. _274_ was on the west side of the building and gave a spectacular view of the sunset and the hills that bordered the city. It was the place the two of them would usually see in the New Year, electing to watch fireworks and eat popcorn from the comforts of the warm home rather than head out and party. 

Unlocking the door, Dream stepped into the apartment and called out as he closed it softly behind him.

“Just me.” He shouted. He waited a beat for a reply, and was moderately surprised when Sapnap padded around the corner of his living space. The pajamas he wore - plaid grey trousers and an old, cartoon style panda t-shirt - didn’t surprise him in the slightest, the fact that he was conscious _did_. “You’re up early.”

“You don’t know how to knock.” Sapnap replied, and Dream shrugged in response. As Sapnap went through to his kitchen, Dream pulled his rucksack from his shoulders and grabbed his sculkpad once more. He’d been a little bit optimistic with his journey time, and instead they had seventeen minutes on the dot until the teams were announced.

“You look like shit, by the way.” Sapnap called. “How’d you sleep?”

“Thanks, I put effort in this morning.” Dream pulled his beanie and sunglasses off, slipping his shoes from his feet and making himself at home. “Awfully. Can I call George?”

“Go for it, I’ll have my coffee in here.” Sapnap chuckled. “I need to be more awake before I see the two of you turning into utter _saps_.”

Dream smiled, walking into Sapnap’s living room and settling himself on his sofa. He kicked his feet up onto the glass coffee table before him, scrolling through his contacts to find George’s name and clicking without thought to start a video call. George was a couple of time zones ahead of them, and had probably been awake all day awaiting the announcements anxiously. While Dream had slept like hell, at least he’d been able to sleep through the worst of it. 

There were only two rings between Dream starting the call and George answering. As his face loaded onto Dream’s screen he noticed two things - that he was a bubbling mess of anxiety, and that he was trying to keep it hidden.

“Hey Georgie.” Dream smirked. If George was trying to keep his cool then he wouldn’t draw attention to it, he’d just try to make him forget about his worries the only way he knew how. “Sapnap’s already told me I look awful, you don’t get to say it too.”

“Doesn’t it mean more coming from me?” He asked, fingers running through his hair as Dream smiled at the image on his screen.

“You know it does, that’s why you don’t get to say it. You’re supposed to be the one that loves me.” He laughed. “Fifteen minutes until teams. If we’re not together I can fly out to L’Manburg early to see you.”

There was a moment of silence, and then: “But, we _will_ be together, won’t we?” 

George’s voice was quieter than it was during their normal conversations, and much quieter than when they ran their combat simulations together. Dream’s heart ached that there was nothing he could truthfully tell him to help. If he assured him that they would be together it was a complete lie, neither of them would know what Scott and the Noxcrew had in store for the event until another fourteen minutes passed, but he wasn’t just going to say nothing.

“Maybe.” He said. “If we’re not I’ll sneak into your team quarters every night, or you can come to mine. We could cross team.”

The suggestion of such flagrant breaking of the rules was enough to make George laugh, anxiety leaving his face (even if it was just temporarily) and instead being replaced with a truly glowing smile. Being so far apart hurt more often than not, but the two were almost always in calls with each other and that kept their relationship going. They did miss the ability to reach out and hold the other - something they’d taken advantage of during last year’s Championship games - but it made the time they were physically together all the more sweeter.

Sapnap appeared a little over ten minutes later, his coffee halfway drunk as he sunk onto the sofa beside Dream and peered over his shoulder to look at George on screen and give him a wave. 

“What do you think George, me and you team and we take down Dream? He could do with having his ego knocked down a peg or two.”

“Sapnap, my ego is just fine!” Dream complained, though hearing George’s laughter meant that there wasn’t much room for him to be truly upset. They’d all been friends for too many years - a simple joke couldn’t come between them. As he and George fell back into an easy conversation - discussing all the sights they wanted to see in L’Manburg before the games officially began - Dream heard Sapnap loading up the Championship app on his own sculkpad and he looked over to the screen: three minutes to go. 

He wasn’t really sure how much of the conversation he heard over the next couple of minutes, Dream was much more fixated on the countdown. The numbers flickered across the screen agonisingly slowly, getting closer and closer to zero. It felt like they would never quite reach - as if when they were supposed to hit zero another two columns would appear and count down from ninety nine again - but the Universe was somehow merciful enough to not create an asymptote of time and finished counting as expected.

It didn’t mean that it had to load the information quickly. 

None of the three men were talking anymore. As Sapnap refreshed the app several times, George turned away from his camera and began typing on his computer to see if accessing the site from a different device would speed things up at all. 

It was two minutes after the countdown finished that they managed to access the site - people all over the world doing the exact same thing and crashing the servers over and over.

“I’ve got it!” George announced, Sapnap practically throwing his sculkpad aside as he and Dream turned back to look at the image of George on their screen.

“Go on then, read them out to us.” 

“Okay, okay, gimme a sec.” George said, taking in a breath and shifting a little before he started. “Red Rabbits: SolidarityGaming; Shubble; TapL; Quig. Orange Ocelots: Dream; Eret; Sapnap; Sylvee.”

There was a moment of silence, Sapnap and Dream seeing the drop of excitement on George’s face replaced immediately with disappointment. It was hard to tell on the camera, but it looked as if his breathing sped up just a little too. Dream wanted more than anything else to be with him at that moment, to hold him and reassure him that just because they weren’t on the same team didn’t mean it wouldn’t be fun. Before he had a chance to even open his mouth to begin saying anything, George continued with his list.

“Yellow Yaks: PeteZahHutt; Rendog; KingBurren; Michaelmcchill. Lime Llamas: FalseSymmetry; Captainsparklez; Krtzyy; SB737. Green Guardians: Tubbo; George; Wilbur; Technoblade…”

# # # 

Tommy was in his engineering lesson when the announcements were posted.

He’d known for the last few months that he would be taking part in that year’s games, and keeping it a secret had been hell. He hadn’t been able to tell anyone - not his family, his friends, he wasn’t even sure if he could get away with telling his dog - so he’d kept it quiet. Today, that all changed. 

Somehow, the last few hours had been worse than the weeks that preceded them. It had been easy to keep it a secret when he knew he had to keep it that way for a while longer, but it was much more difficult when his friends were sitting around him at lunch and asking why he hadn’t touched his sandwiches. He’d barely paid attention in class which - admittedly - wasn’t too abnormal - but today had felt different. He’d almost chewed through the end of his pen over the last thirty minutes and when the teams were finally announced he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Even though he was in class and no one around him knew yet, he didn’t have to keep it to himself anymore.

That didn’t last long.

“Tommy, _what?!”_

They’d been doing theory work during that lesson, and with everyone at their desks and the machinery in the room silent everyone’s attention was drawn to his classmate that had called out his name.

“Rei, what are you shouting about?”

The classmate in question looked to their teacher, raising their sculkpad above the desk and pointing to it sheepishly.

“Hand it over, you can’t have personal devices out during class.” 

Even as the teacher attempted to discipline Tommy’s fellow students, curiosity got the better of a number of them as they began to pull out their own sculkpads and quickly started searching for what it was that had made Rei shout.

Cheers from another classroom told Tommy that news was spreading a lot faster than he’d expected it to, and he pursed his lips in a tight smile as he realised that the disruption of the lesson wasn’t exactly going to die down anytime soon. 

“The Minecraft Championship teams are being announced.” He explained. “I’m competing.”

# # # 

“...Cyan Creepers: Philza; Fundy; Scott; Tommyinnit. Aqua Axolotls: HBomb; Calvin; MiniMuka; Krinios. Blue Bats: Vixella; KryticZeuz; James Turner; Drgluon. Pink Parrots: InTheLittleWood; Mefs; fWhip; Cubfan. Purple Pandas: Seapeekay; SmallishBeans; PearlescentMoon; CaptainPuffy.”

George sat back in his seat, taking in a slow breath after finishing listing off the teams before he dared to look back at Dream and Sapnap. They were together, _without him_ , and while he knew Wilbur, Technoblade and Tubbo to some degree it wasn’t the same as competing with his friends. He would be against them, he’d be separated from them, and it hurt.

But they were professionals, this was their job. They didn’t compete for fun and he forced himself to remember that, to look at it from the perspective of a competition, and George managed to summon up a smile.

“You know, this means that I’ll beat both of you.” He decided upon. Clearly, the words were the right ones to pick, because he heard the laughter of his best friend and boyfriend clearly across the call. The noise was enough for him, too, to relax, and his smile felt significantly less forced. Teaming with Technoblade almost guaranteed a high finishing position - the man was good at what he did and he had no doubts that he would be pushed to his limits when the time came. Between now and then he would need to train harder than he had done before so he didn’t let the team down, and maybe he’d be able to get a win under his belt. 

“Keep telling yourself that, we’ll just see who comes out on top in Battlebox.” Dream smirked, and Sapnap groaned beside him.

“I can already picture it, you’ll have him against a wall with a sword at his throat. Anyone would think you were dating with how much sexual tension there’ll be.”

Sapnap’s words brought another bout of laughter to the group and any worries of tension that could have arisen as a result of their friendship group being split down the middle were pushed aside. Maybe being pinned against each other would be more fun than they first thought.

# # #

Tubbo hadn’t been able to keep quiet about the announcement of the teams. Maybe he should have waited just a little bit longer, at least until his lessons were over, but a sneaky check of his sculkpad beneath his desk had revealed his teammates and there was absolutely _no way_ he was able to keep that to himself any longer than necessary.

“Miss, can we see who the MCC teams are?” He asked, raising his hand and trying to keep his smile from his face. It was supposed to be a revision session, but Tubbo had never been _particularly_ invested in history anyway. If he needed to he could have quite easily suggested that the Minecraft Championship games had become such an integral part of culture over the years that it was a part of Modern History, but the excuse wasn’t needed - there was enough of a following for others in the classroom to nod along eagerly and checking the teams for the whole class to see would be a surefire way of stopping too many complaints from arising.

“Straight back to work.” The teacher said, loading up the glowstone projector. “You can discuss the teams in your own time, but we can _look_ now.” 

It seemed to pacify Tubbo and his classmates for the time being, but Tubbo tapped his foot anxiously on the ground. He tried to hide his grin with his hands, but it meant he couldn’t try to hide his bouncing leg and with his friends beside him, it was obvious there was something going on.

“Stop fidgeting, what are you so excited about?”

“I know the teams, Blanc.” Tubbo replied, turning to his friend and giving her a smile. “You won’t _believe_ who’s competing.”

“Are there new people?” Tubbo turned to his left, looking to another of his friends and nodding quickly.

“Yes.” He said, his smile spreading beyond his hands and his leg bouncing faster. He would be utterly unable to keep this in much longer. 

“Who?” She asked, the teacher clearing her throat as the site began to load.

“Mush, I said you can discuss teams on your own time. Come on, or you can all just get back on with your work. Silently.”

The class fell quiet again, Tubbo taking in a breath to calm himself just a little as he watched their teacher scroll slowly through the teams.

The Red Rabbits elicited a few gasps, the Orange Ocelots got a whoop (and gave Sylvie a warning for cheering), the Yellow Yaks received quiet _ooh_ ing of people trying not to be caught, the Lime Llamas got a laugh of _couldn’t be the Captain_ (with Riri warned similarly to Sylvie, the two left giggling in the back of the classroom together).

And then, the Green Guardians came into view and all eyes were on Tubbo. He felt his grin widening again, bubbling out into a laugh that left his lips gleefully as he saw the image on the screen before him - before all of his friends - and his excitement spread around the classroom. Mush and Blanc were the first two to cheer, sat either side of him and congratulating him quickly, and his classmates were quick to join in. There was excitement among them all that he was competing at such a high level while he was so young but, more than just that, that he was on a team with _Technoblade_. Both Wilbur and George were excellent sportsmen themselves, and teaming with them was exciting enough, but Technoblade was almost in a league of his own. He was known across the world for his dedication and skill, it would be nothing less than an honour to compete at his side and Tubbo would be using every second he could with the man to learn. 

It had become utterly apparent in the moments that followed that there would be no chance of getting the lesson back on track, and so their teacher decided to let them be. It wasn’t every day that someone as young as Tubbo had the chance to compete in something as prestigious as the Championship games - letting them celebrate his success for the rest of the period was something she was more than content to allow.

# # # 

_@technothepig: Welcome to the team @TubboLive - you’ll be a great asset. Remember, violence is the only answer and if it isn’t you need to ask a different question._

_@Smajor1995: What a day! Congratulations to @TubboLive and @Tommyinnit - our two youngest competitors! I am feeling *very* old now._

_@Dream: Time to teach these kids to respect their elders. See you on the battlefield @TubboLive @Tommyinnit_

_@HBomb94: Am I the only one that’s a little bit scared of those kids? Oh I am? Okay… @TubboLive @Tommyinnit be nice to this old man!_

Tubbo scrolled through the messages from other competitors regarding the team announcement. Once the initial excitement had worn off he’d felt utterly overwhelmed by it all, his Twitter notifications had utterly exploded as thousands upon thousands of people had found and followed his account. It didn’t take long for him to feel in over his head. Not wanting the anxiety to bubble up as much as he knew it might, he’d reached out to message the other young competitor he’d seen mentioned time and time again.

_@TubboLive, sent 16:37_

_Hello Tommy! I am also new to MCC D: I hope you do well!_

_@Tommyinnit, sent 16:39_

_I will do brilliantly, no less than perfection from me._

_That’s a joke, I’m absolutely terrified._

_I’m going to be running the simulations every day for the next 6 weeks, I don’t think I’m going to sleep until it’s all over._

_@TubboLive, sent 16:42_

_We can be terrified together :D_

_I hope I don’t let my team down :(_

_@Tommyinnit, sent 16:43_

_You won’t, they picked you for a reason._

_Doesn’t mean I won’t beat you, but if you got paired up with Technoblade then it’s not because they think you’re rubbish._

_Head up, Big T. You’ve got this._

_@TubboLive, sent 16:43_

_You too!_

_:D_

The messages from Tommy, however brief, were enough to make him feel a little less alone in it all. He wasn’t the only one his age competing, he wasn’t the only first-time competitor, and he’d quickly made a friend. It meant that, when he was added to a group conversation with his teammates, he felt a little less intimidated. Sure, it was impossible _not_ to feel intimidated when speaking one-on-one with _the_ Technoblade, but his teammates all seemed incredibly welcoming and supportive of him. None of them seemed to think that he’d drag them down given it was his first time competing, and no one seemed upset that they’d been teamed with a child rather than someone more experienced who might have been able to get them a win.

It didn’t mean that he’d be lax with his training, but it meant he could spend the evening getting to know his new teammates rather than jumping straight into the simulations. He was sure that he could learn a lot more from them than he could necessarily learn practicing digitally, and it would all pay off in the long run.

Six more weeks was all he had to wait until he was flown out to L’Manburg to compete - six weeks that would pass _far_ too quickly.

# # #

Technoblade was no stranger to pressure: he had been in the spotlight long enough to know how it felt to have your every move analysed, every tactic torn to shreds, every hint of weakness zoomed in on and amplified his opponents. He supposed that was why he felt as though he had some kind of duty to look after Tubbo. By no means did he underestimate him - if a man as young as him had been chosen to compete then he must have been _incredibly_ talented - but he wanted to provide some kind of protection from the awful stares of onlookers. If he’d known what he was getting himself into all those years ago then he maybe never would have stepped out of the shadows. Competing in Minecraft at such a high level had given him opportunities, experiences and friendships that he would never have had otherwise, but he missed the days when he could care a little bit less about what he did.

Dream had already posted an inflammatory comment to hype up their rivalry online, and he knew that meant he had to come up with a rebuttal. 

He was friends with Dream. They weren’t particularly close - they didn’t often see each other outside of the Championship games themselves - but Technoblade knew to respect him and that respect had turned into a kind of camaraderie, then into a friendship. He was closer with both Wilbur and Phil - both of whom he’d known for years and often competed with - but he and Dream shared a different kind of bond. They both knew what it was like to be regarded as _the best_. He and a handful of other players knew what that felt like, and the alienating feeling that it created had driven them all together. Because of Dream’s love for the limelight, their playful rivalry had quickly gained attention from the crowds and when they inevitably faced off millions of eyes were on them and them alone. 

It was fun, sometimes. Other times it was simply too much to deal with.

He’d make sure that Tubbo was equipped to deal with whatever was thrown his way, both in the Championship and from those surrounding the event. From what he’d seen online, Phil was on a team with the other young man joining this year and that made him feel content that he too would be protected from the worst that the media could throw at him. 

Checking the time, Technoblade remained where he sat in his home for a few more minutes before moving. His home wasn’t the extravagant kind of apartment that some would expect a man like him to live in. He could easily afford a more lavish lifestyle, but the idea of an apartment high above the city with granite counters and more bathrooms than people living inside just didn’t suit him. He preferred living in a small town, somewhere he could easily practice his skills not only using the simulations online but out in the open. If he wanted to practice his parkour then he could easily hike out into the mountains - he could go caving at the same time and refine his mining techniques - and could spend hours at a time just walking through the fields that surrounded his home whilst reciting every crafting recipe from the top of his head.

That evening, instead of heading out to practice, he fed Floof and himself before settling in to plan out his own training regime. He’d never been on a team with George or Tubbo before and would want to run a few simulations with them: it would be good to look at their styles in a way that was more about developing the team rather than sabotaging the enemy. The sooner they could organise that, the better things would be. It would give him more time to plan out strategies for the games and give them all time to rehearse. He could suggest to the group that they ran a practice of the parkour course at the weekend (not wanting to cause Tubbo to miss any of his schooling), and they could follow that up with a two-v-two in survival games. The two events should give him a good idea of how his team moved, how they thought, and how they fought. He could work with that knowledge.

Messaging his teammates (with an adequate amount of emojis to convey his emotions), he decided it was about time to craft an elegant response to Dream’s baiting from earlier.

_@technothepig: @dream ha, noob._

# # # 

Sapnap made his way through the Dodgebolt training ground with Dream, Sylvee, and Eret by his side. There were a lot of good teams competing this year, and it seemed that everyone was going to be fighting an uphill battle to secure a place in the Dodgebolt final duel, but Dream had them training as often as possible. At least to him, scoring high enough to land their team in the top two spots was inevitable.

With orange armbands on to identify the group as they mingled through the different practice arenas, Dream led the four towards another team: HBomb, Calvin, Mini and Krinios. The four were competing under the banner of the Aqua Axolotls and were easily one of the strongest teams. On paper, they were much stronger than the Orange Ocelots themselves and practicing against them would either give them a boost of confidence, or show them exactly where they needed to improve.

“You’re smiling too much for a team that’s about to be destroyed.” Dream joked. They weren’t competing today, they could have a little fun. 

“We’ll see how it goes.” Krinios smirked. 

“It’s alright, we can stand still.” Calvin laughed. “We don’t need the practice.”

“Because you’re not getting to Dodgebolt?” Eret asked, a chuckle leaving his lips as he clicked his fingers and disappeared. Sylvee gave the others a smile as Dream and Sapnap followed Eret.

“May the best team win.” She suggested, giving them a mock salute with two fingers as she too disappeared after her team - reappearing on their side of the Dodgebolt arena with bows hanging at the side for them to pick from. Eret and Sapnap had already picked theirs, leaving Sylvee to grab her bow and slide a thumb ring onto her hand while Dream began to talk through their plan of action.

“Eret when we start I want you to go for the arrow, don’t shoot it. See who on their side gets the arrow and let them shoot first, we’ll target them. I think it’ll be HBomb, he’s their best shot by far.” He paused for a moment, letting himself look to the other side of the arena to see the team appearing and beginning to organise themselves. “Sylvee and Eret I want you two getting as much practice in as you can, Sapnap and I can funnel arrows to the two of you. If they’re got arrows, keep moving. Try not to cross each other, mind the edge. It might be digital now but it doesn’t mean that falling into lava is fun and we don’t want that on the day. Questions?”

“Who put you in charge?” Sapnap asked, teasing Dream with a grin on his face as he practiced stringing the bow and found his preferred position. 

“Shut up.” Dream laughed a little, grabbing his own bow and moving back into the middle of the arena. He made sure to knock Sapnap with his shoulder as he walked past, the pair relaxing as they prepared for their practice. 

Across from them stood Krinios and Mini, stretching their shoulders and legs to prepare themselves. It wasn’t quite the same as it would be during the actual event - the practice never got adrenaline pumping in quite the same way as the Championship games themselves - but it didn’t make it any less beneficial. Having some time in the arena while they were calmer helped them to perfect techniques, practice their communication, and refamiliarise themselves with a game that many of them hadn’t played in a year. 

“Do you want another few minutes?” HBomb called. “We don’t want to catch you guys off guard.”

“Go whenever you’re ready, you’ll need all the mulligans you can get.” Dream smiled. 

Rather than coming back with a retort, the Aqua Axolotls readied up and the Orange Ocelots exchanged a quick look at each other before following suit. 

The countdown began, three chimes bringing them to the start of the round before two arrows were dispensed onto the court. As Sapnap, Sylvee and Dream began to side-step and dodge, Eret ran to grab the arrow. Opposite, Krinios moved for the arrow. He picked it up and as he continued to run he quickly nocked the arrow in place. He didn’t let a moment go to waste, drawing back and releasing the arrow toward the four Orange Ocelots. His swift movement didn’t quite pay off in the way that the team were hoping, flying over Sapnap’s shoulder and sticking in the wall behind him. While Krinios hadn’t managed to take one of their opponents out he had managed to get the Ocelots hearts’ racing. 

Sylvee took the arrow from the wall, and with both arrows in their possession she and Eret could take their time with lining up their shots. Dream and Sapnap had both stilled, watching from the sides as the pair followed the movements of the Axolotls closely.

“Just breathe, take your time. You’re both in control here.” Dream said. “They can’t make you release, you hold all the cards.”

“I’ve got Krinios lined up.” Eret said quietly, making sure it was only Sylvee that could hear him. “Want to go at the same time?”

“Counting us down.” She replied, taking in a breath and locking her own vision on Calvin. “Three, two, _one_.”

Both Eret and Sylvee released at once, each letting out a breath as their arrows travelled through the air. Eret’s shot looked as if it would hit, but Krinios dodged at the last moment… Straight into Sylvee’s arrow. The moment of celebration was short lived as Krinios disappeared from the arena: both arrows were now on the Axoltol’s side and the four Ocelots began to move quickly again. They heard the familiar warning that the arena was about to close in at the edges, forcing them to move closer together to avoid falling into the lava below.

The arrows had been given to HBomb and Calvin, and they were clearly aiming towards Dream. Instead of moving around, Dream stood absolutely still, and when they let go at the same time he let his knees buckle beneath him and dropped his body towards the ground - both arrows flying over his head and hitting against the back wall. He grinned as Sapnap offered him a hand to get back to his feet, Eret and Sylvee taking the arrows again. They took their time, watching as the Axolotl’s moved back and forth. When they fired they missed - Mini and HBomb dodging narrowly - and the team was back to dodging again.

HBomb and Calvin shot again, this time Calvin’s shot hitting Eret in the shoulder and HBomb’s hitting Sapnap in the chest. With those shots they’d not just evened the round, but put themselves ahead. At least now Dream and Sylvee both had a shot to take, and with the arena closing in yet again the three remaining Axolotl’s had less room to move about. 

Sylvee shot first, her arrow aimed straight for HBomb and missing him by a hair as he dodged to the side at the last moment. Dream focused himself aiming at Calvin, the man moving quickly and erratically close to the edge. If he could keep his sights trained on him just a little longer maybe he’d be able to ratchet up his anxiety enough to force a mistake - maybe he could fall off the platform. He adjusted his grip on his bow slightly, twisted his body into a slightly better position, and then he felt a stinging in his side.

He looked down to the arrow stuck in his stomach, then back up to HBomb who cheered from where he stood. He dropped his bow and opened his mouth to curse, though the word didn’t have a chance to leave his lips as his body disappeared. He was teleported automatically back to the sidelines with Eret and Sapnap, watching on in dismay as Sylvee faced off against HBomb, Calvin, and Mini.

It wasn’t long before she too stood beside her teammates, Dream sighing and running his fingers through his hair. 

“Okay, maybe a little less trash talking from me next time.” He said sheepishly. Still, it was a best of five, and they had plenty more time to practice.

# # # 

Tommy made it to the third stage without so much as stumbling, running with ease until he got to the Hanging Beams. Even then, it was only the very last jump he seemed to be struggling with. While Scott and Fundy watched on from the sides, Phil had taken a more hands on approach of tutoring. He was standing one jump behind Tommy, his hands holding tightly to the wooden supports that held the glass beams in place, keeping himself as balanced as he could as he watched the younger man. Right now everything was digital, but that didn’t stop vertigo from kicking in while standing over the void. For returning competitors, the familiar feeling of blood boiling was enough to push themselves to take their time and move carefully even now. 

“You need the momentum, Tommy.” Phil explained. “You need to move back as far as you can and when you move forward you need to jump at the last possible moment. The glass is reinforced, standing on the edge won’t break it, you can be more daring than you might first think.”

Tommy nodded. This was his first practice with his team and he’d pushed aside his usual loud and bubbly personality to instead focus on his technique. He could bond with them all later and joke around with them when they finally met in person in L’Manburg in a few weeks time, but for now he needed to focus entirely on making sure he learned as much as possible. He _wouldn’t_ let them down.

He took in several deep breaths, closing his eyes and grounding himself as much as possible. He could hear Phil encouraging him from behind and in his ear he could hear the voices of Fundy and Scott who were just as supportive: it helped to put the worst of his anxiety at ease and he jumped.

His feet found the final glass beams and grinned from ear to ear, quickly jumping and landing on the floating dirt platform to complete the stage. As he let out a cheer Phil landed beside him, placing a hand on his back and grinning.

“You’re getting the hang of this.” He smiled. “You’ll be better than us before you know it.”

Tommy couldn’t help the smile on his face, and the kind words were enough to help him get a grip on the ladder sections. It helped to be on a team with Scott more than he cared to admit - while the man was more involved in the logistics of pulling teams together he did help to coordinate the games with the Noxcrew and it often meant that he had tips up his sleeve to explain how best to tackle each section. Whenever he fell the others were there to help him get back on track and Phil could demonstrate to the best of his own ability. None of them saw him as a weakness, none of them thought of him as detrimental to their team, they all just wanted to help him get _better_. Every worry he’d had about taking part in the Championship games seemed to fade away the more he practiced, and by the end of their session together he was left smiling. 

As his teammates and - dare he say it - friends left the simulation he too logged off for the night, removing the headset and stepping carefully over the redstone wires so that he didn’t trip in the studio he stood in. It was his first time training there, and stepping back out into the real world felt utterly disorienting after the last several hours. While he took a moment to regain a sense of balance and reality he let himself catch his breath, greedily swallowing water from his bottle and using his free hand to push his hair away from his face. He could see his sculkpad lighting up from across the room - messages from his team and, likely, from Tubbo filling the homescreen. He could read and respond to them all when he got home, for now he just wanted to get home. His body was tired and he wanted to collapse into his bed before getting up and doing it all over again the next day.

He grabbed his backpack and packed away his things, leaving his headset to charge overnight as he clicked off the glowstone lamps that illuminated the studio and stepped out onto the cobblestone path. It might have been early summer but the sun had set and the warmth of the day had been quickly chased away, stars twinkling in the skies above the town. In the distance he could hear mobs, none close enough to cause him any concern and he began to walk home down the twisting, quiet streets. It wasn’t terribly late - plenty of people were still awake as evidenced by the windows of homes still glowing softly and the voices of residents carrying out into the night. Tommy shoved his hands into his jean pockets, smiling to himself as he thought back over the events of the days since his team had been announced. He’d made new friends, he’d been the focal point of every conversation whenever he’d walked into a classroom at school, and he’d learned a lot more about the different aspects of Minecraft than he normally would in months of practice.

Whatever the Minecraft Championships had in store for him, he was excited for the future.


	2. L'Manburg

George’s flight had landed an hour before Dream was scheduled to land, and that meant that he needed to spend an hour waiting in the airport. He’d been somewhat concerned that he might have been recognised, spotted, and questioned, but the place was quieter than he’d expected. With three weeks until the games began, and another week until the competitors were due to arrive, no one expected him to be there and so no one would be looking. It meant that he could sit with a bottle of sparkling apple juice in hand and not worry about being recognised, watching instead as people filtered through from baggage claim and out of the airport, intent on beginning their holidays, heading off to work events, or being reunited with family and friends. Each time George saw someone embracing his heart picked up the pace just a little, knowing that before too much longer it would be him in that position. Dream would emerge from security and baggage claim, he’d see George and run to him and they’d cling to each other like the world wasn’t watching them. 

For now though, he continued to sip on his juice and watch as workmen put posters up advertising the games. The familiar Noxcrew logo seemed to dominate everything around him, and pictures of the Noxcrew’s president had already been taken and used for promotional material. He assumed in a fortnight that many of the posters of Noxite would be replaced with posters of the teams, but for now the president behind the company and the inventor behind much of the technology used during the games was front and centre of their advertising campaign. It wasn’t as though he was undeserving of the attention, George just preferred when he could see Dream’s face plastered on every building and billboard in a five mile radius. 

Watching planes land and take off from through the windows managed to pass the time more quickly than he’d expected it to, and before long he heard the distant call of the tannoy announcing which carousel the luggage from Dream’s flight was arriving on.

_ Dream was just one room over. _

It had been months since they’d last been face to face and in person - and while they’d seen each other countless times over video calls it just wasn’t the same as being able to actually reach out and touch the other. Any nerves over whether or not things had changed between them in the last few months were meaningless as George got to his feet, his duffle bag thrown over his shoulder as he positioned himself in the middle of the corridor and began to wait.

The last three minutes seemed to stretch out for much longer than the last hour, and as people started to file through he scanned the crowd desperately for Dream. He knew when he saw him not to call out his name and draw attention to themselves as they wanted to remain under the radar for the first week of their trip, but that didn’t mean when he  _ did  _ catch a glimpse of the familiar blonde hair poking just slightly above the heads of the other arrivals he didn’t gasp. With his breath caught in his throat and a smile on his face he began to walk towards the crowd, watching the top of Dream’s head as people moved around him to reach their destination. 

And then, as if there hadn’t been an ocean between them for the last six months, Dream was standing just centimetres in front of George. 

The next few moments were a blur, he wasn’t sure where his body ended and Dream’s began as he felt himself pulled into a tight embrace: both of them clinging to the other like their life depended on it. He buried his own head in Dream’s neck and felt a soft kiss being pressed against his hair, before laughter burst from Dream’s chest and warmed his own heart as he was squeezed tighter to his body.

George would have been quite content in staying that way forever, encased by the warmth that Dream provided and able to refamiliarise himself with the person he’d come to call home, but good things eventually came to an end and Dream pulled back just a little. Now George could see his face, admire him in a way that he couldn’t through two-dimensional images and pixelated pictures. He could take in his freckles, the tan of his cheeks and the way his eyes were a little more muted than usual (though jet lag would explain the tired, dazed look on this face). As George stared up at him, Dream’s tongue darted out from between his lips and ran over them quickly and George laughed. They’d waited six months, what was a few moments longer now they were together and he could  _ tease him _ .

“Your hair grew.” George said, moving his hands to his face and reaching to run his fingers through the wavy golden locks. He pushed his hair back from his eyes, tucking it behind his ears before allowing his fingers to continue travelling around the back of his head and slowly pulling him closer. Dream was tall and George’s neck was going to hurt like hell if he had to look up too much to kiss him, but he seemed to get the message. He lowered himself down and George was no longer on the tips of his toes when their lips met, Dream’s hands moving to his waist as he closed his eyes to slowly cherish the moment they shared. The first kiss in months was so much sweeter than anything else either of them had tasted, and neither felt the need to deepen the kiss. The slow, gentle movements and the warmth of their hold was enough to make up for the distance that had been between them. 

George pulled away first to breathe, not moving far as he rested his head on Dream’s chest and looked up at him with a contented smile on his face.

“I missed you.”

“I called you before getting on the plane.” Dream reminded him, bringing one hand to his cheek and letting his thumb softly trace over his cheekbones and the smooth of his skin.

“Was I not allowed to miss you?”

“You’re never allowed to miss me, I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.” Dream reassured him, a kiss being pressed to his forehead before he sighed softly and stepped out of the embrace. “Though I’m starving and exhausted, and unless you want me to sleep on the airport floor I think we should head to our hotel.”

“You wouldn’t.” George said. As if to prove his point Dream stretched his arms above his head - shirt rising just a little above the waistband of his jeans to reveal the soft skin of his stomach - and he began to sit himself down on the ground. 

“Joining me? We could have a little cuddle.” He teased, smirking up at George who’d turned a delightful shade of red. At least the vast majority of people had already made their way from the building, not wanting to spend a moment longer than they’d needed to there. Those that remained were consumed in their own reunions and weren’t paying them any attention.

“Come on Georgie, don’t you want to cuddle with me?” Dream’s smirk was replaced with a pout and puppy eyes, and George shrugged. 

“I was going to head to our hotel, check in, and order some room service.” He replied. “You’re welcome to the dirty airport floor if you want, though.”

As George turned to begin slowly walking to the exit of the airport he heard Dream scrambling to his feet behind him, grabbing his own suitcase and walking quickly to catch up to him. A hand linked with his own, and George looked down just in time to see Dream lace their fingers together and squeeze.

“I missed you too.”

# # # 

L’Manburg was a small nation: an enclave of the country that had once ruled over it. It was full to the brim of history, with every street in the old part of the city holding a story of its own - part of the bloody revolutionary war fought hundreds of years ago seemed to be engraved in every wall, every cobblestone path, and statues of men and women long since dead erected at almost every junction and in every park. Dream and George walked hand in hand, sunglasses on their faces obscuring them from recognition and preventing the sun from straining their eyes as they walked down one of the twisting, sloping streets to find a cafe to sit in. 

“I wonder if Wilbur knows he’s named after the guy that led the revolution here.” George wondered aloud, Dream turning his head to look down at his partner to see him reading from one of the many pamphlets they’d picked up throughout their day of sightseeing. 

“The name Wilbur is pretty common.” Dream mused. “Maybe if he  _ came  _ from L’Manburg he’d have been named after him, but I’m not sure when he was born his parents thought to name him after a leader of another country that’s been dead for centuries.”

“You never know.” George shrugged, looking up from the paper to meet Dream’s gaze as the taller man smiled to himself.

“Yeah, I suppose you don’t. Do you want to get lunch while we’re here?”

George nodded silently, going back to reading, and Dream just smiled at him. He was perfectly capable of choosing a spot for them to eat at without George’s assistance, though it would’ve been helpful to know how hungry he was or if there was anything in particular he wanted to eat at that moment. As he looked around, glancing at the different establishments before them to try and pick one with little effort, he was less aware of his surroundings. It meant when he felt a hand on his shoulder he jumped, turning around quickly to face whoever had managed to creep up behind them.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with us.”

After the moment passed and Dream was a little less on edge from the sudden contact his brain managed to re-engage with its surroundings and remind him who he was facing: Scott and Noxite. Despite their words he let go of George’s hand, not wanting the attention of everyone in the city to be on the two of them if someone perked their head up hearing the conversation and managed to snap a photo. At the loss of contact, George looked up from his pamphlet and spotted the other men standing beside them, offering them a smile.

“Is everyone arriving early this year?” He asked, Dream looking at George fondly as he spoke.

“We’re just here setting up the final touches.” Noxite explained. “The stadium for the opening ceremony looks fantastic, I’ve never seen so many fireworks in one place before.”

“The other teams should be arriving from tomorrow.” Scott said. “You’ve still got a bit of privacy. We’re not going to go telling everyone what you get up to in your own time, I had a feeling. There’s a reason I put you on opposing teams.” He grinned. 

“We were going to grab lunch, you can join us if you’d like?” Noxite suggested.

George and Dream exchanged a look, George giving a noncommittal shrug in much the same way as he’d nodded about getting lunch in the first place. It was good enough for Dream. He agreed, and the four made their way together to a restaurant a little way from where they’d been searching - one that Noxite couldn’t seem to speak highly enough of. He’d been in L’Manburg longer than the others had, and had clearly picked out several favourite spots to eat in the time he hadn’t been working. 

It was, as expected, a lovely lunch. The restaurant itself was quiet given that it was a little further out from the main routes, but it meant there was less of a worry of being approached while they ate their meals. George and Dream both ordered a local delicacy - freshwater salmon that was allegedly fished from the same rivers that fed the original inhabitants of L’Manburg - and conversation flowed easily. Naturally, the secrets of the changes made to the games from the previous year were closely guarded and questions that could be taken as an attempt to cheat were avoided. 

After their lunch together - which Noxite insisted on paying for - the two groups went their separate ways and George and Dream returned to their exploration of the city. They still wanted to see the ruins of the old walls and wander the underground tunnel systems to see if they could find what was supposed to be the remains of the  _ Final Control Room _ . 

If teammates were going to start arriving from tomorrow then they only had one more day together before they needed to put their relationship to one side and focus on the competition. It meant that they spent the afternoon doing as much as they could. Photos were taken from the top of the old walls, the two posing together and pulling faces to ruin the other’s selfies until they were laughing so hard they had to sit down until they could breathe again. They got a few weird looks but they weren’t approached by anyone - just left to have whatever fun they wanted. When they headed underground, Dream kept his sunglasses on, George raising an eyebrow at first until they found the Control Room itself and Dream gave George a smirk.

“It was never meant to be.” He said, lowering the pitch of his voice and whispering the infamous line to George - who could have sworn he felt shivers down his spine.

“You can’t  _ say that _ .” He told Dream sternly. “What if they hear?”

“They?” Dream asked, pulling his sunglasses from his nose. “Who’s they?”

“Y’know, the people that died here.” He replied sheepishly, feeling himself blushing as he looked down and Dream laughed quietly.

“You didn’t strike me as the kind of person to believe in ghosts.” He said, crossing to George and placing his hands on his shoulders. “I’ll keep you safe from them, don’t worry.” He reassured, and then: “sorry ghosts, I was just having some fun.”

“You’re such an idiot.” George scoffed, Dream looking at him fondly. 

“You may be right about that.” He smiled, leaning down for a kiss. “But I’m  _ your  _ idiot.”

# # # 

The prospect of a long flight away from home on his own had never particularly excited Tubbo, but after weeks of training harder than he ever had before he was almost relieved to have an excuse to just close his eyes and rest. Except that didn’t end up happening, because when he arrived at the gate his flight was due to leave from, he realised that he wasn’t the only competitor aboard this flight.

For a moment he was utterly starstruck, and it took him a second to remember that even though he had been a fan for such a long time - even though the man before him was his idol -  _ he  _ was competing at the Minecraft Championships too. It felt bizarre to think of himself as on a level playing field with Captainsparklez himself, and Tubbo took in a breath to keep himself calm as he approached.  __

“Captain?” He asked, standing a few steps away from him and letting himself smile. “You’re the Captain, Captainsparklez, hi.” He said breathlessly, watching as the man pulled his headphones from his head and let them rest around his neck. There was a moment of silence between them, before he put two-and-two together and gasped, smiling and offering his hand. 

“You’re Tubbo, congratulations man!” He said with a smile, Tubbo’s eyes sparkling as he took the older man’s hand and shook it excitedly. “Call me Jordan, Jardon, whatever you want.” He gave his free hand a wave. “Your first Minecraft Championships then, how’re you feeling?”

“Nervous.” Tubbo admitted, a little surprised by how easy it seemed to be to talk to someone that’d been his hero for so long. “Really nervous, I don’t want to let my team down.”

“You won’t, I promise. I was so much older than you when I first competed, for them to have selected you so young you must be something special. Teach me your ways.” He laughed. “You’re on the Green Guardians, right?” Tubbo nodded. “Techno, Wilbur and George are all brilliant. You’re in good hands, but I’m sure you already know that, you’ll have been speaking to them for weeks.”

Nodding again, Tubbo smiled a little wider. “Actually,  _ you  _ were always my favourite.” He said. “It’ll be weird not cheering for you this time.”

Tubbo might have been starstruck at first, but with that out in the open Jordan brought a hand to his chest and smiled. “Well, I’m  _ honoured  _ to have been your favourite, but I’m not going easy on you in Battlebox.” He laughed.

“No, I mean it. You were my inspiration growing up.” He said. “I never would’ve started playing if it wasn’t for you, and I definitely wouldn’t have played competitively.”

“Tubbo,  _ aw man  _ you’re gonna make a grown man cry.” He laughed. “Maybe I will go easy on you after all.”

The tinny sound of an announcement came from speakers above, ending their conversation, but the two men didn’t part ways. Instead of saying their goodbyes they boarded the plane together - their tickets both having been provided by the Noxcrew putting them side by side in business class. Jordan gestured for Tubbo to take the window seat, and the two spent the trip discussing their different techniques for each event. They might be rivals in the games, but they weren’t  _ in  _ L’Manburg just yet. 

It was only when the flight landed that the two of them went their separate ways. They were greeted by representatives of Noxcrew after they’d collected their bags to be escorted to the team residences in the lead up to the event. While the airport they’d left had been relatively quiet and neither had been approached too much before boarding, it was an entirely different story in L’Manburg. The airport had been decorated with advertisements for the games, and as Tubbo was escorted from the building there were more camera flashes and questions in his face than he thought he’d ever been asked in a lifetime. The competition itself he’d prepared for, but this kind of attention wasn’t something he’d considered.

In retrospect it made sense - there had  _ always  _ been a huge media presence following the games and he should have expected it - but he felt as if he was in a daze as he was led out of the building and taken into a car that seemed far too expensive for him to be sitting in the back of. The seats were made with a plush leather and the windows were dark, and Tubbo found himself breathing quickly as he settled back.

“You’ll need to get used to that.” 

The voice came from the seat directly in front of Tubbo, and as he looked up to see Noxite with his head turned to look back at him he forced a smile onto his face.

“Nice to finally meet you. I thought I ought to introduce myself to you but, well, you saw what it was like in there.” As he spoke, the car pulled away and Tubbo tugged to pull his seatbelt on as they moved. “We’ve got security at the residence so you’ve nothing to worry about for now. Later this evening once everyone’s here we’ll have a proper welcome and a dinner, you’ll get to know all the teams, then from tomorrow onward it’s a little more flexible. Obviously there’s some things scheduled in - photoshoots, medical assessments - but the next two weeks are whatever you and your team make of it.”

Tubbo nodded and Noxite laughed a little. “There’s no need to look so terrified, we’ll take care of you. We know that you and Tommy are still minors, you’ll meet Tommy later tonight by the way, so if you’re in need of a bit of extra support it’ll be there for you. If there’s anything you can’t handle with the media, we can put a stop to it.”

Tubbo relaxed at that, letting himself sink back into his seat and glance out the window at the city he was in. L’Manburg was nothing like home, and he was suddenly filled with anxiety all over again. He’d trained so hard to be here, and now that he was actually here it didn’t seem real. Maybe by the time evening rolled around and he met with his team, with Tommy, with Jordan and the other competitors it would seem real, but for now it just felt like he was living some kind of fairytale.

# # # 

Tommy hoped that there wasn’t a dress code for this dinner: he certainly hadn’t been told if there was one. He hadn’t left his room since he’d arrived, nerves getting the better of him as he’d sat on his bed and texted with Tubbo (who he’d assumed was in a similar position). On the other side of the door were three much more experienced Minecrafters, people he’d come to be friends with over the previous few months but there was still a sense of anxiety that he couldn’t shake. Talking to Tubbo had helped to calm that down a good amount and now that it was almost time for the group to head down to dinner together he was going to be meeting Phil, Scott and Fundy face to face for the first time.

He readied himself, giving one last look over his t-shirt and jeans, before stepping out into their shared living quarters.

As the door to his bedroom clicked open their heads moved to look towards him. Phil was standing in the small kitchenette, Fundy and Scott were sitting on a sofa in the middle of the room, and they all greeted him with a smile.

“Tommyinnit, the final member of the team.” Phil said cheerfully. “Ready to carry us to victory?”

“Oh, of course. They don’t call me Tommyinnit to win it for nothing.”

“Tommywinnit, you might say then?” Scott added.

With that there was laughter and he felt himself relax. If he could make them laugh, he could do damn near anything.

They spent another twenty minutes talking before heading to the dinner - arriving fashionably late but with wide smiles on their faces. With the number of people attending it had been easier to just book out an entire restaurant for the night, and by the time they arrived the plans of people sitting with their teams seemed to have gone out the window entirely as people mingled. Returning contestants sought out past teammates or rivals for a catch up, but to Tommy nearly everyone in the room was a stranger. Except for his team and one very important person.

“Tommy!”

They’d only called a handful of times, but Tommy recognised Tubbo’s voice in an instant and he looked towards him with a wide grin on his face. Even if they hadn’t been the only two young newcomers to the games he couldn’t have imagined coming here without being friends with Tubbo and finally getting a chance to meet him in person made any remaining worries fade away.

“Tubbo!” He replied, the two of them squeezing through their teammates and towards each other to meet and hug. Tommy was acutely aware of just how much  _ shorter  _ his friend was - much shorter than he ever thought he’d be - but he’d wait a short while before he decided to tease him about it. For now he wanted to enjoy getting to meet his friend.

“You’re taller than I expected.” Tubbo said. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to be tall so I just grew. You’re shorter than I expected.” He pointed out. Maybe he  _ wasn’t  _ going to wait to tease him.

“Makes it easier to dodge when I’m in Dodgebolt.” 

“I don’t have any trouble shooting small targets.”

They paused for a moment, then they laughed. He was glad that they were still good friends in person even if they hadn’t seen each other like this before, and it gave him someone to go around with. It helped that they were both newcomers and particularly young: people  _ wanted  _ to introduce themselves and it meant that the awkward first meetings were over quickly for the both of them. 

Given that the Cyan Creepers had already arrived late for the meal, it wasn’t long before the teams were asked to be seated back at their tables and food was brought out. Tommy’s table was positioned towards the back of the room, with the Pink Parrots on one side of them and the Red Rabbits the other. The conversations mainly stuck to tables while people ate, but between courses people moved around to catch up with each other. Tommy had been introduced to some of the previous winners from years gone by - Quig from the Red Rabbits and fWhip from the Pink Parrots - and when he found out that Quig had only been a little older than him when he’d won he had a boost of confidence. He didn’t feel quite as out of place as he had done before, and as the night continued he felt as though maybe,  _ just maybe _ , he and his team would be victorious. They had varying strengths, Phil and Scott had more experience than most people in the room,  _ they could do this _ .

Tommy would be training as hard as he could, whenever he could, for the two weeks that led up to the event. He wasn’t going to let them down.

# # # 

As Noxite had mentioned, much of the next two weeks were left to teams to use as they liked. The Green Guardians had been asked to attend their photoshoot in the morning of the Tuesday of the first week, and in the afternoon they would head for their medical assessments. The team had gelled quickly, with Tubbo discovering that rather than being an intimidating force to be reckoned with, Technoblade was much more of an older brother to them all. He and Wilbur had competed together before and their friendship pulled George and Tubbo into their orbit quickly, and before long the four of them were laughing and gently bullying each other. As they practiced parkour simulations they’d have competitions within their team and place bets on who would win to give their training a little more incentive. When they practiced combat, Technoblade would take the lead in showing people exactly how to use each weapon best. He helped Tubbo with his posture when he aimed his bow, helped George with the swing of his sword and Wilbur with dodging and counter attacking. They worked well together as a team, victory for the four of them seemed almost inevitable.

Cameras flashed whenever they were out together, and Technoblade seemed to have silently picked up on Tubbo’s discomfort with the attention. Whenever he could see paparazzi on the horizon Tubbo would feel a hand on his shoulder, Technoblade stepping to whichever side of him the cameras would be angled from, and they’d continue walking as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t done in an obvious way, it didn’t make Tubbo feel as though his team were trying to baby him through the event, but he was beyond thankful for the little gestures. Besides, it evened out when Technoblade called them all nerds for the fourth time that day.

Their photoshoot was yet another experience that Tubbo was having for the first time. They were given outfits to wear, hand tailored to fit them all perfectly: tight fitting, long-sleeved black shirts and black combat trousers with heavy duty belts fastened around their waists. To identify which team was which when the photos were turned into posters, they were given green varsity jackets with Guardians appliqued onto the back. It was simple, but they didn’t need to be any more complicated than that - there was nothing else being advertised in the city just now. 

“Are you upset you aren’t with Dream and Sapnap this year?” 

Tubbo’s voice broke the silence. He, George and Wilbur were sitting to one side as Technoblade was being directed into different poses for photographs.

“What? No, why would I be sad?”

“Because I remember watching last year when you were all together, you were really happy.”

George chuckled a little, smiling before he offered Tubbo a reply. “I’ll be even happier when we beat them. It’ll prove that I’m better than them.” 

“I’m not sure that needs proving.” Wilbur said. “Besides, we have an advantage against them.”

“We do?” George asked.

“What, you think Dream is going to be able to kill  _ you  _ in Battlebox?” He raised an eyebrow, and in the darkness of the studio Tubbo could swear that he saw George’s cheeks turn pink.

“I think he’s going to make it his personal goal to kill me in as many events as possible.” George countered, Wilbur laughing.

“Sounds like you might need some relationship counselling there George.” 

“Wait, are you and Dream dating?” Tubbo asked curiously, and as George seemed to turn even more red Wilbur chipped in again, leaning over to Tubbo with a grin on his face and speaking quieter than usual, but making sure that George could still hear.

“They aren’t, but they should. All they did last year was flirt, I swear. They both deny that they like each other but they do.”

“Well if they like each other, why don’t they date?” Tubbo asked. “Isn’t that the point?”

“We  _ do  _ date.” George said quietly, Tubbo and Wilbur turning to look at him in perfect synchronization. 

“Oh.” Wilbur said, his face unreadable for a moment before he smiled. “Congrats man, I’m happy for you guys! You deserve it, seriously. We’re not gonna go spreading it around like wildfire, just don’t sneak off in the middle of Buildmart to find a quiet corner you can hide in and… Y’know.” He winked, George’s nose scrunching up as he pulled a face of disgust.

“Please, I’m not doing that while there’s cameras watching.” He replied. “I’ll trip him up if we get Hole in the Wall, don’t worry.”

“Tubbo, you’re up next.” Technoblade called, wandering over from where he’d been photographed and slipping out of his jacket. “What’re you nerds talking about?”

“George’s love life.” Wilbur replied, George putting his head in his hands as Tubbo stood from his seat and grabbed his jacket. He slipped his arms into each sleeve, watching Technoblade pulling a face and shaking his head.

“No love lives allowed on my team, thank you very much.” He joked. “We don’t need love, we need victory.”

As his teammates laughed, Tubbo walked across the dark studio to stand in the same spot Technoblade had been in moments before. Behind him was a large white sheet, the floor covered in the same material, and more lights focusing on a cross of white tape in the middle than he’d ever seen in his life. He stood there quietly, quickly counting that there were no less than eight lights pointing from all directions. It made him feel incredibly hot, and he had to squint past the lights just to be able to see the photographer directing him into different poses.

At first the process was uncomfortable, the heat, the light, and the camera flashes pushing him out of his comfort zone, but once the awkward and somewhat stilted poses were completed he was given props. Holding something - anything - made everything much easier, and he could use the time to practice his posture. He posed with a bow and arrow, a shield, an axe and a sword before he was asked to sit back down. Wilbur was photographed next, then George, and then the four of them were photographed together as a team. Even without props it felt so much more natural to be working as a group. Their chemistry meant that everything seemed  _ fun _ , and even a request as simple as standing back to back somehow turned into laughter (particularly when Wilbur and Tubbo stood against each other and the difference between their height became all the more obvious). Sure it meant that things took longer than they should have done, but as they’d left the studio to attend their medical examinations they’d all been happy.

“It’s less intrusive than you might think, don’t worry.” Technoblade said to Tubbo, the two walking through the streets side by side in their own clothes once again - Wilbur and George a few paces ahead of them. “Since we’re all uploaded for the event itself there’s no need to test for any kind of performance enhancing drugs, it’s absolutely impossible to cheat that way. Theoretically someone could hack the servers but the Noxcrew operate everything themselves, it would be damn near impossible for anyone to get in without noticing. And even if they did, if you’ve got a diamond pick and everyone else has wood it won’t be hard to be caught.”

“Has anyone ever tried?” Tubbo asked, Technoblade turning his head to face him.

“Nothing’s ever been reported if anyone has.” He shrugged. 

The conversation seemed to end there, the two walking in silence, though Tubbo’s mind lingered on the topic. They were putting a lot of faith into those servers when they were being uploaded, and he supposed the fact that some of the competitors had been uploaded once a year, every year, for nearly a decade now should be enough reassurance that things would be alright. Still, Tubbo couldn’t help but feel a little hesitant about the whole idea. He’d heard stories of those that had been injured returning to their bodies with those same injuries after the games had finished: they could be healed and fixed with time, but it sounded unpleasant. 

As they returned to the complex that had been established for the athletes, Tubbo spotted a group of armed guards walking with Noxite towards a small back door. Still thinking of the conversation that had just taken place he wondered if that was where the servers were kept. Maybe their physical protection was just as tough as their digital protection.

A shiver ran down his spine as they arrived at the medical centre, and Tubbo spared one final glance over his shoulder before stepping inside. 

Much like Technoblade had promised, the exam wasn’t particularly intrusive. Each member of the team had been taken to their own separate room and a number of details were taken. They were measured, weighed, had their blood pressure taken and were asked a long list of questions about any medical conditions that ran in their families or they had previously. Tubbo didn’t have any allergies that he was aware of, he consented to blood transfusions and any kind of emergency treatment they might need to perform in the case of an accident. As his heart rate and oxygen levels were taken, the nurse in charge of his exam began to prepare to take a sample of his blood.

“It doesn’t hurt as much as you think.” The man explained to Tubbo. “I used to think it’d be absolute agony. It’s not fun but it’s more a kind of discomfort than any sort of pain.” Tubbo nodded. “Hold your arm out for me?”

Doing as he was asked, the nurse used two fingers to tap on the back of Tubbo’s hand and feel for a vein. Content that he’d found one he’d be able to take a sample from he tied a piece of rubber to Tubbo’s upper arm and prepared the needle. It was then that Tubbo decided to close his eyes, not wanting any advanced warning of the intrusion and not wanting to see what the process of having his blood taken looked like.

The nurse, if nothing else, had told the truth. It wasn’t a particularly nice feeling when his skin was pierced, but equally it wasn’t a painful one either. He kept his eyes shut and his head angled away from it all, and after about thirty seconds he felt the needle leave his hand. Immediately the discomfort was gone, replaced with a cool wet wipe to stop any bleeding.

“I’m sure it’s been explained to you already, but all of these details are destroyed after the event.” The nurse said. “We don’t keep the genomes of our contestants, your DNA is your data and as soon as the Championship games are over we wipe our systems entirely. If you’re back again next year, your blood will be taken and genome sequenced again.”

As Tubbo nodded, he was handed a small box of medication and looked it over slowly, reading the information printed on the side as the nurse continued.

“These pills help to prepare your body for the stasis chambers. I won’t go into huge amounts of detail, unless you want me to?” Tubbo shook his head. “Take two a day at breakfast the week leading up to the games - there’s fourteen in the box and you’ll want to take the whole series for them to work as well as they can. They’ll still  _ work  _ if you take less, but you’ll have less leeway with respawn times so it is important that you take all of them. If you’ve got any questions you can ask myself, any of the medical team, or the Noxcrew. We’ll be here throughout the entire thing monitoring everyone during stasis so you’ll have absolutely nothing to worry about when you’re in the games.”

Tubbo nodded, pocketing the pills quietly before being sent on his way. He didn’t understand most of the technology behind the games - although he could tell that it was groundbreaking and impressive, and enough people seemed to know what everything did for him to trust it. 

He waited outside the medical centre for his teammates, with George, Wilbur and Technoblade emerging only a couple of minutes after he did. They still had a couple of hours before dinner and with the beginning of the Minecraft Championships now less than two weeks away they were going to get in every bit of practice that they possibly could. Together the four headed back to their living quarters and put on their headsets to run the parkour simulations again, trying to learn the course until it was drilled into the back of their minds and they could run it in their sleep. 

With all their scheduled requirements now completed, Tubbo could tell that the last eleven days before the event would fly by as the team trained hard together to give themselves the best chance of coming out on top. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic just keeps getting more & more chapters added to it because i apparently like rambling way too much, lots of relationship building in this chapter too tho! don't worry, we're getting close to the start of the games themselves now!
> 
> hope you're all enjoying it so far, we've got a long road ahead of us!


	3. The Opening Ceremony

“Take my hand.” 

George looked out of the window of his quarters, seeing Dream standing in the cobblestone courtyard below with one hand raised. It was raining, and while lights from the city reflected in the puddles on the ground Dream looked cold and damp.

“Since when am I a teenager climbing out of my bedroom window? This isn’t a sappy rom-com, Dream.” He called in response. That said, he was pulling a hoodie over his pyjama shirt and slipping his feet into his trainers as he looked down at his boyfriend fondly. This was  _ stupid _ , he knew it was stupid, but something in the back of his mind reasoned that it could  _ technically  _ be counted as parkour practice and so, after leaving for a moment to ensure that his bedroom door was locked (although Techno and Wilbur were supposed to be meeting up with Phil and he was unlikely to be disturbed anyway), George opened his window as wide as he could and slipped through the gap. It wasn’t a big drop down to the ground, so he let himself fall without thinking and landed carefully - narrowly avoiding slipping into a puddle.

“I said take my hand, not climb out your window.  _ You  _ made it the sappy rom-com.” Dream said, closing the distance between them with his hand still outstretched.

“Shut up.” George laughed, his fingers meeting Dream’s and linking together loosely.

“ _ Make me _ .”

George raised an eyebrow, watching as Dream leaned a little closer to him expectantly. His features weren’t as obvious in the darkness of night, but he didn’t miss the wink he was given. Rather than play his game and appease him, George nudged their shoulders together gently.

“What are we doing then?”

“I want to go out dancing.” He said fondly, his free hand moving to rest itself on George’s waist so he could turn him to face him head on. “One last night together before we become sworn enemies?”

“You’re such an idiot Dream, why didn’t you mention  _ dancing  _ before I came out here in my pyjamas. Everyone’s going to be staring at me.” 

“When did I say that anyone else would be there to watch? Everyone’s going to be out partying, we can head to the old walls and dance up there.”

It was times like these that George remembered just how much of a hopeless romantic Dream was. He’d flirt, he could be sarcastic and playful and would tease George as much as humanly possible, but he’d always be looking for the next gesture he could make. He was often the recipient of flowers delivered to his door, virtual dinner dates when they were in separate countries - something like this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He couldn’t call Dream an idiot again, not when he looked at him so softly and held him so carefully. His eyes were full of hope that the gesture would be appreciated: his lips curled upwards and dimples formed on his cheeks. 

“That sounds lovely, Dream.” George eventually replied, standing on the tips of his toes to press a fleeting, soft kiss to his lips. “How’d I get so lucky to have someone like you?”

“I could say the same thing.” He whispered, his voice low. These words were for George, and only for George. “Do you want a ride?”

Spluttering at the sudden change of tone, George turned bright pink - his blush extending to the tips of his ears.

“Excuse me?!” 

“A piggy back ride, do you want one or not?” Dream asked, laughing. The way the wheeze burst from his chest made George’s heart warm and while he  _ knew  _ Dream had phrased his question like that to embarrass him, the sound of his joy made it worth it.

As Dream began to calm his laughter down he turned around, bending his knees and lowering himself as George jumped on his back and wrapped his arms around his shoulders and neck to hold on tightly. Dream’s arms hooked around his legs, holding him in place as the two of them ran off into the distance whooping and laughing.  _ So much for subtlety.  _

# # # 

“I hope you don’t mind: I’ve brought company.” Phil stood in the doorway to the Green Guardian’s team quarters, Tommy standing just behind him and waving over his shoulder. “Figured a babysitter would be pretty expensive with this short notice so I’d just bring him with me.”

“Fundy and Scott both say no?” Technoblade asked. “I’d pay them to take Tubbo too.”

“We can both hear you.” Tommy pointed out, though with the smiles on their faces it was easy to tell that their words weren’t genuine. Squeezing himself past Phil, Tommy invited himself into the living space and grinned to Tubbo. He’d sat himself at the counter in the kitchenette, scrolling through his sculkpad and looking at all the posts about the varying teams on social media. With the opening ceremony starting in less than twenty four hours he was struggling to keep his eyes off it, especially now that the teams had stopped training to instead relax before the competition began. 

“Not a big party goer, Big T?” Tommy asked, sitting himself beside him and staring at the messages on the screen. People were excited more than anything, a lot of people seemed to be picking out who in particular they were rooting for or commenting on how much they were looking forward to seeing certain rivalries playout. There was fanart drawn of the teams, individual competitors, and everyone involved - it seemed unreal to be a part of such a huge cultural phenomenon and yet they were at the centre of it all.

“People think you’re going to do really well.” Tubbo said, putting the sculkpad down and looking at Tommy. “I think you’ll do really well too, I think you’ve been practicing even more than I have.”

“You’ve been mentored by the Blade himself.” Tommy pointed out. “You’re going to dominate in combat, it’ll take everyone by surprise and that’ll give you an upper hand too.”

“See you in Dodgebolt, then?” He asked, offering out a hand to shake. “May the best man win?”

“Thank you for my victory then, Tubbo. We  _ all  _ know I’m the best man.”

“What does that mean?” Tubbo scoffed, Tommy smirking before their conversation was interrupted by the clearing of a throat from the middle of the room.

“If you gentlemen are done fawning over social media, would you want to join us for a drink?” Wilbur asked. He raised his own glass, the dark liquid in it rippling a little at the movement. When he saw their faces falling somewhat he smiled. “Don’t worry, the drinking age is 16 here, you can both have some if you want it.”

“We’re not going to get you blackout drunk if that’s what you think.” Technoblade said. “Although that’s an excellent strategy, give the opposition their first ever hangover…”

“What they’re saying is, would you like to join the toast? I’ve brought some soft drinks if you don’t want alcohol.” Phil said. “You’re more than welcome to have a taste if you want, but don’t feel pressured into it.”

“Oh, I drink all the time. Drinking and talking to ladies, those are my fortes.” Tommy joked, making his way back to the side of his friends with Tubbo close behind.

“I’ll just have something fizzy.” 

“C’mon Tubbo, not even a little sip? Or are you not  _ Big T _ ?”

“There’ll be  _ no  _ peer pressure at this Sleepy Bois Inc party, thank you very much Tommyinnit.” Phil said sternly, and although his tone was harsh and his words were serious Tommy couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll try some. What is it?”

“Brandy.” Wilbur replied. “You want to drink it slowly, savour the taste. It’s not like a liquor, you don’t do shots with it.”

“Try mine.” Technoblade said, handing his glass to Tommy as he sat himself down on the sofa beside him. Despite talking a big game before, he found himself looking at it somewhat warily and taking a hesitant sniff before he brought the glass to his lips. After being told to drink it slowly he was very slow in his movements, barely even angling the glass enough for the liquid to slowly trickle down between his lips and into his mouth.

It was enough though, and Tommy pulled the glass away from his face quickly as his features scrunched up and his eyes closed with a wince, forcing himself to swallow the liquid and fight through the slight burn he felt at the back of his throat whilst the others laughed. Technoblade took his glass back, smirking just a little.

“That’ll be two soft drinks, I think.” He said, Tommy nodding and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“It wasn’t that awful, you look like you’ve been forced to drink Ghast tears.” Wilbur laughed, Phil chuckling to himself as he poured out two glasses of cola for Tommy and Tubbo. 

“Well it wasn’t  _ nice _ .” Tommy replied, quickly drinking to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

With that small experiment over with, the five fell into an easy conversation. No question was posed as to George’s absence - his teammates had a good idea of what had happened to him after they’d heard the door to his bedroom lock - and the evening passed by quickly. They stayed up a little past midnight, not needing to be awake too early the next day given that the opening ceremony wasn’t scheduled until the evening, and they weren’t required to be on site until after dinner. Still, they didn’t know if the teams in the other rooms were sleeping or if they too had stayed awake for one last hurrah before the competition, so as Tommy and Phil returned to their own accommodation for the night they walked quietly - bumping briefly into a giggling, giddy George. They didn’t ask, but his cheeks were pink: at least he’d had fun.

# # # 

“And what time do you call this?” Sapnap asked, Dream going from laughing to sheepish at the drop of a hat.

“I-- Uh--”

“Eret and Sylvee went out with a group of about ten other people, they’re not back yet either. You look like you had fun.” 

Dream pushed his wet hair back from his face, free hand in his pocket as he gave Sapnap a wink.

“I guess you could put it that way.”

“Oh, shut  _ up.  _ You are disgusting.” Sapnap laughed, reaching for a scrunched up wrapper from a snack he’d had earlier in the evening. He threw it at Dream, huffing when it fell several feet short of its destination. “I’m going to bed, I don’t want to hear about your evening anymore.”

“You love me, Sappy.” Dream chuckled. 

“If I can stab you in Battlebox, I will.”

# # # 

As dusk fell over the nation of L’Manburg, all the eyes of the world were on the city. Footage was being broadcast in every nation, in every language, counting down to the moment that the Minecraft Championship games would begin. The forty competitors sat in a room beneath the stadium being used for the opening ceremony, with performers, musicians, stagehands and technical assistants running around madly to ensure that everything ran smoothly. In the green room that they sat in the contestants had access to food, drink, and screens to watch the performances on before they made their own appearance before the world. 

Despite being in their team outfits and preparing to face off against each other the atmosphere between the teams was still relaxed. Tommy and Tubbo had struck up conversation with Sapnap after poking him enough times on the shoulder to get his attention, Dream and George were side by side with their hands linked (hidden beneath a small pile of snacks to keep the attention away from them), and Scott, Shubble and Sylvee were laughing together and throwing small chocolates at each other from across the room, trying to land them in their mouths. Things were happy, calm, everything was okay. It was as if they weren’t going to be fighting to the death in a matter of hours.

“It’s starting.” Phil said, shushing everyone as Jordan reached to turn the volume of the performance up to be heard over the relentless chatter from other contestants. As the screens displayed the Noxcrew logo, the Minecraft Championships logo and a few dozen icons of corporations that had sponsored the event, people finally went quiet. 

An introductory clip was played to open the show to the world. L’Manburg was displayed in all its glory: from the rolling hills on its eastern border to the beaches in the south and west. It was a small country, barely more than the old city itself, but the land that was within its borders was beautiful and renown. Between the history and the countryside, L’Manburg had been a tourist hotspot for years and little was needed to be done to remind the world of just how wonderful of a country it was.

As the screen changed to show clips of the athletes themselves rather than the country, people took it in turns cheering. It wasn’t just those watching in the green room that were getting involved, they could hear the response of the audience above. With a little over eighty thousand people sitting a few metres above their heads it would have been hard not to hear them, but it was interesting to see exactly who got the loudest cheer.

Naturally, the newcomers were given a warm reception - people hadn’t yet formed an opinion of their skills and abilities, and they were still children.  _ No one  _ wanted to be remembered as the person booing a child. Technoblade and Dream were both given a mixture of cheers and boos: they both had a fanbase and large following, and tried their hardest to act like a pantomime villain with the other to help keep the excitement for their rivalry going. When they were booed the contestants laughed, Dream and Technoblade grinning at each other as Dream raising his hand for a high five - a request that Technoblade was happy to fulfil. Some of the loudest cheers came for last year’s victors, even if they weren’t on the same team. Quig, Scott, Seapeekay and Shubble had won as the Aqua Axolotls and despite being (mostly) split apart this year they were all vying to secure two back to back Championship victories. 

When the clip ended the view flipped between several cameras - some wide shots capturing the stadium from the sky, some closer looking at the audience. Eventually, the cameras stopped moving and focused on two empty seats. As the audience fell quiet, the voice of the commentator began to ring out around the stadium.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to L’Manburg, and to the thirteenth annual Minecraft Championships. As we open our ceremony, please join me in welcoming our founding father, Noxite, the President of Noxcrew, and President J. Schlatt of L’Manburg.”

With the appearance of the men in question, the crowd cheered and applauded. Noxite approached from one side and President Schlatt from the other, both men in suits and offering each other polite, tight lipped smiles before turning out towards the stadium and to the cameras facing them. They held up hands to wave a hello to the people surrounding them to the world that watched on, before stepping closer together and shaking each other’s hands. They remained like that for longer than would be normal if there weren’t several millions of people watching them, before they took to their seats beside each other and Schlatt leaned over to speak directly into Noxite’s ear. He laughed, smiled, and nodded. 

“Now, without further ado, please put your hands together for the National Children’s Choir of L’Manburg performing  [ _ An Ode to L’Manburg _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEDGo4DBn68) .”

Another, more muted round of applause took place, quieting down quickly as a conductor began to wave their hands and the several dozen children stood in the middle of the arena took in a breath and began singing in unison.

“It all started on a day like any other, all the salmon had swum to the sea. When my lover she darted away down the stream, with a heart that she’d taken from me. And my chest, thought it ached, there was hope: a little beacon of light. Though my sunniest days were now stolen away, I still had our son by my side.”

While the children’s singing was clearly far from the ability of an adult, the group of them singing together did the song justice and the fact that a number of the children barely looked old enough to even attend school brought a certain cuteness to the performance that made up for any notes that weren’t quite hit. As the song began to build towards the chorus, instrumentation joined in from the L’Manburgian National Orchestra and that too helped the children find their notes: it was much more pleasing on the ears of the audience.

With the final verse the orchestra stopped playing once more, and one young girl stepped forward from the group of children to sing alone. 

“Oh the break of the day shed its light on our hearts left battered and bruised. All the hopes that we’d laid, on the home that we’d made, torn to pieces and left in the blue. But my friend, with an angry cry, held the weight of the world at his side: took a trembling stand with an arrow in hand, as he muttered a final goodbye.”

There was a moment of silence as the girl’s voice rang out and echoed in the stadium, before the children were cheered and clapped for by an adoring crowd. Those in the green room had fallen quiet during the performance and a few hushed whispers were exchanged, some crunching of food could be heard and the sounds of bottles of water being opened filled the room as the children left the arena and were replaced instead by several hundred people marching together. They wore blue and red uniforms, with crossbows at their sides and shields in their hands as they filled the arena. Despite the vast number of soldiers approaching there was no cause for concern or worry to those in the audience or the green room, the military uniform of the modern day L’Manburgian army looked nothing like that of the Fifth Battalion that had liberated the country so long ago.

“Conducting the L’Manburgian National Orchestra tonight is Sir Mars Beckerson.”

The voice of the announcer could be heard twice - once from the speakers above and once from the screens that surrounded the contestants - and a short applause was given as images of him taking a bow flashed before them. After a moment the audience fell silent and he raised his hands, looking to the orchestra before him and signalling for the string section to begin to play as the performers on stage became the focus of the world’s attention.

“Since time immemorial you have cast great sins upon these great lands: you have stolen from our ancestors, murdered our brothers, and burned the futures of our sons. When in the course of Human events it becomes necessary for the bonds which bind us to be dissolved, disregarding the truth is nothing short of treason. Today, I declare to you: independence or death. If we cannot rule our lands ourselves, then we want  _ nothing _ . We would rather die than give in to you and the continuation of your oppressive rule. This time of tyranny ends with us.”

“Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.”

With the end of the speech, the hundreds of men and women in the arena raised their shields and let out a cry in unison as the music picked up - the loud beating of a hundred drums shaking the ribs of those closest to the amplifiers, a low bass shaking the stadium itself. The performance began to play out before the world that watched on, perfected choreography making it look as though every individual person moved as a unit, all a cog in the same great machine. Shields were used to make images only visible from the sky - captured by the cameras above to give those in the stadium and viewers at home a similar experience - and lighting, smoke, and pyrotechnics were used with the music to wordlessly tell the story of the battles that took place in the struggle for independence.

Despite none of the competitors themselves coming from L’Manburg, a silence had fallen over the room as they gave the performance their entire attention. This was a reenactment, a performance, but these were real events, a true story, people just like them had suffered and loved and lost to earn this land: the freedoms the people of L’Manburg had won were hard fought and deserving of respect.

All the music stopped, the stadium went dark, and as slow drum beats began again lights began to flash and small pyrotechnics exploded on the stage. Sparks from one ignited the fuse of three more, and those three then exploded and lit the fuses of another nine. The fear that must have been experienced all those generations ago was brought to life as the world seemed to disappear in a cloud of smoke.

As the haze dissipated and cold lights shone down on the arena there were now only two men being watched, crossbows pointed at each other.

This was all an act. Two shots were fired, one man fell, the war was over. 

Familiar chords were played by the orchestra: softer chords. The tension and the anger that had been the soundtrack to the fighting was replaced with a song of peace and freedom, and while the one fallen man had lost so much he had won something so much greater for those he shared his home with. He’d won a future, a tomorrow that they had lived for the last several hundred years.

The gentle music continued as soldiers in modern military uniform walked with the flag of L’Manburg held between them. As the six figures marched together President Schlatt got to his feet and pressed his hand to his chest in a sign of respect, an action that was mimicked by those in the arena that watched. The announcer’s voice rang out once more as the flag began to rise.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the descendents of members of the Fifth Battalion.”

Rather than the whoops and cheers from before, the applause given as the flag was raised in the arena was much more muted and respectful. While it had been hundreds of years since the revolution and no one alive today had memories of the events that took place, it seemed humbling to be in the presence of those that had descended from people that had fought so hard to win the land they stood on today.

When the clapping died down and the next performance began, a knock on the door to the green room interrupted the contestant’s viewing experience.

“Five minute warning.” The woman at the door said, giving them a thumbs up before closing the door as people got to their feet to begin preparing to head on stage. 

A number of them had to grab capes, cloaks, and over jackets that accompanied the base layer of their outfits, friendship groups breaking apart in favour of standing with their teammates: Tommy and Tubbo said their farewells, both filled with excitement and nerves that made their stomachs churn; George and Dream shared one last loving gaze. George squeezed the younger’s hand tightly before letting go to stand with the other Guardians, the teams of four slowly beginning to file out of the green room. As they exited they were handed their weapons. These were, of course, for show - they would only take themselves and the clothes on their backs with them when they were uploaded onto the server - but it made the desired impact for the opening ceremony. Everyone was given a dagger - most strapping it to their thigh but some like Technoblade opting for the weapon to be holstered beside their chest - a sword, and a crossbow with a quiver of bolts. Last but not least they were given pickaxes, the tools hanging from their belts as a reminder that the Minecraft Championships weren’t just about violence - there were building challenges, there was teamwork, they needed to be able to problem solve with a lot of information and very little time (or, on occasions, no information and no time). 

The teams were ready to face the world. No more playing nice, no more laughter and friendships, the games were about to begin and now things would become serious.

The woman that had appeared several minutes ago returned to the group, her eyes scanning the crowd and once she’d counted to forty she smiled, bringing her finger to a button on the headset she wore and speaking into it quietly before she addressed the group of competitors.

“We’re heading up now guys, once we’re there we’ll have you all wait in an orderly and  _ quiet _ fashion. You’ll be sent out one team at a time, wait until the stage manager gives you this sign-” she clasped her hand together above her head in a tight fist “-and then your group can head out. You’ll make your way to the podiums, following the path, and you’ll stand there for about fifteen to twenty minutes. There’ll be a fireworks display, then you’ll come back here while the last performance plays out and you’re escorted to stasis. A health and safety briefing will be given there before you step inside - any questions?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Excellent, follow me.”

The group began their short journey through the underground corridors of the stadium, concrete floors beneath their feet scuffed with the soles of countless boots that had been running around over the last few days. The lights emitted from the End Rods above their heads felt terribly artificial, though as they ascended staircases their focus turned from the lighting to the sound. The cheers of the crowd were impossibly close and deafeningly loud, and the fear that the newcomers had faced was growing exponentially. Tubbo wished that he hadn’t eaten quite as many of the little chocolates as he had, and he wished he had Tommy by his side. If he looked over his shoulder he could still see his friend, the taller man giving him a reassuring smile as they walked and the end of the corridor came into view - along with the stadium full of people. 

Tubbo swore he’d never seen that many people in his life.

The ten teams came to a halt at the end of the corridor, the stage manager holding her hand out to stop them from proceeding any further. From where they stood they could see her on her own headset talking to what they could only assume were several other highly stressed individuals that were running around to keep everything on track. She jumped seamlessly from channel to channel, adjusting the dial on the redstone pack at her hip to talk to different groups of people as and when she needed to.

Her hand formed a fist, and the Red Rabbits began to walk.

As they exited the corridor and entered the arena there were loud cheers, flashes coming from the sea of people as thousands of cameras took photographs all at the same time. Drones that gathered footage for the live broadcast followed the teammates as they walked together through the outlined path. On the screens of the stadiums the images of the four team members flashed up alongside their names and their position last year. Quig had come second overall - a position he was determined to top this year - and when his face appeared the audience cheered even louder than they had before. He gave a wave, face beaming as he looked around. A few words were exchanged with the other Rabbits - though none were picked up by the cameras - and they laughed.

The stage manager’s fist closed a second time and now it was the turn of the Orange Ocelots. Dream, Sapnap, Eret and Sylvee made their way out into the open and finally got to look back at the tens of thousands of people that had been waiting for them to make an appearance. Their faces flashed on screen again - Dream had finished in fourth and Sapnap had finished seventh in the previous year - their team had been tipped to win by countless bookies and betting outlets (enough so that Dream had almost been tempted to bet against them and throw, but he realised his winnings from the Championships would be far more than the winnings of any gambling he might partake in). As he looked around to his friends, watching Sapnap and Eret laughing together as they pointed out a group of people dressed in orange and covered in orange body paint, he let himself relax. Of course he wanted to win, but there were a few more hours until they were uploaded to the servers - he could still let himself laugh.

The Yellow Yaks were up next. Many of their team had taken part in the competition for years, they were familiar faces and received loud cheers as they walked out smiling and waving - the Lime Llamas following behind around a minute later to much the same reception.

When the Green Guardians emerged from the darkness of the corridor into the open of the stadium, the crowd was on its feet. George and Wilbur were both strong competitors, Technoblade was a legend, and Tubbo was new. The excitement for the team wasn’t to be understated, and even Dream cheered for them as they approached. Their rivalry was fun to play up when they were competing, but right now it was more fun to support him.

Wilbur had thrown his arm around Tubbo as they’d walked, the two of them beaming from ear to ear. At first it had all felt overwhelming: Tubbo had gotten used to the attention of a couple of photographers and the occasional fan approaching him, but this was different. The entire world had been staring at him and he’d felt their eyes watching, and it wasn’t until he felt the touch of a friend that he stopped looking like a deer in headlights. He’d been able to laugh now, to enjoy the moment and to let euphoria and excitement overtake the anxiety that bubbled in his stomach. Tommy would be out next, and then they’d be on the stage side by side able to enjoy the moment together.

Phil, Scott, Tommy and Fundy emerged together as the Green Guardians took their spot on the stage and while Tubbo had been nervous at first, Tommy was milking the opportunity. He’d fit into the spotlight so much better than people had expected him to and as he walked out he greeted the world with a bright smile, a wave, and a wink into the camera. His team got on brilliantly together and while they weren’t quite as competitive as the others taking part it didn’t mean that they weren’t going to be trying hard. The team had been somewhat overlooked by the spectators, people expecting the Red Rabbits, Orange Ocelots, Green Guardians and Pink Parrots to all be in a heated competition with each other, but that just gave them a good story.  _ Everyone  _ loved an underdog.

The Aqua Axolotls were greeted with cheers - both Krinios and HBomb had finished with excellent scores the year before and after beating damn near everyone they’d practiced against in Dodgebolt (though they hadn’t told any of the teams they’d practiced against that their win streak was so strong) they were feeling confident. They were another team that people seemed to have forgotten when placing their bets, but they were more than happy to create an upset when they came from the shadows to win.

The Blue Bats were there for the money, it was something that everyone knew. They weren’t good Minecraft players compared to those they shared the stage with, but they brought sponsorships with them that meant the event could be bigger than before. They knew how to entertain too, and if they weren’t going to win then they were entirely capable of reaching a different audience throughout the competition and keep people hooked until the end.

As the Pink Parrots made their way out the stage was almost full. The teams were taking their places and, in front of them, the President was being positioned with a microphone. At some point he’d left his seat with Noxite and the two had joined the players in the arena to open the event, and after a moment of testing the microphone with two quick taps it was handed to President Schlatt before the stagehand disappeared from sight.

The Purple Pandas were the final team to enter the stadium and the cheers they were given seemed to be sapping the last of the crowd’s energy - though they had been cheering for the better part of an hour at this point. Everyone still wore smiles, waving to the crowd and to each other, and as things began to settle down the microphone that Schlatt held was unmuted to broadcast his words to the people that watched on.

“Hello L’Manburg!” He shouted, and somewhere there was almost certainly a sound engineer with a ringing in their ears as a moment of feedback was quickly corrected. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen of the world, to L’Manburg. A beautiful country full of  _ brilliant  _ people and right now, the  _ home  _ of the Minecraft Championship games. I know you’re all very  _ very  _ excited for the competition to get underway, but I want to thank Noxite and his wonderful Noxcrew for all the work they’ve done on this event. They’ve been with me every step of the way planning this and what you see unfold over the next week couldn’t have been done without them.”

The audience cheered again, clapping as the President gestured towards Noxite and the man raised his hand and nodded his head in thanks. The noise died down quickly, and the President handed the microphone to Noxite before stepping from the centre of the platform to the side - meeting a stagehand at the edge and taking a button from them. 

“Thank you all very much for coming out tonight, I’m sure you’ll join me in thanking the President of L’Manburg for his efforts in supporting our games. A huge thanks as well to everyone involved in tonight’s ceremony - to the performers, the children, the technicians and the crew. Before the games officially begin I’d like to give a final welcome, and a very big  _ good luck  _ to all of our teams. We’ll be back tomorrow morning broadcasting to you all live from the Decision Dome, but for tonight…” He trailed off, Noxite looking to the President and giving him a nod.

“Let the games begin!” 

As Noxite announced the opening of the games, President Schlatt pressed the button on his controller and someone - in a control room somewhere in the stadium - pressed the  _ actual  _ button to set off a firework show that would be remembered for the ages. 

Whizzing and crackling filled the air as projectiles shot into the sky, exploding in a series of different colours and raining down. With each pop and bang, people seemed to  _ ooh  _ and  _ ahh  _ a little louder, and music began to build. This time instead of a dramatic soundtrack or a moment of peace and respect all that played was the upbeat, happy jingle that accompanied the Decision Dome itself. The contestants gave up all pretence of rivalries for a minute as they began to dance along on stage, laughing and enjoying the moment as the world celebrated with them. 

It was several minutes before stagehands approached the group, the fireworks still exploding in the sky as they led the competitors off the stage and back the way they’d come from the stadium. That had been their last moment of  _ fun  _ before the real work began, and as they headed back inside and handed back their weapons and tools, they knew what was coming next. Some knew more than others, the newcomers still high on excitement and wonder while those more experienced were finding a calm place to stay in their minds. It would only be a short walk from the stadium to the stasis chambers and from there they would say goodbye to the bodies they currently inhabited, not knowing if they would return to them in one piece (or, at all). The dangers were known to all competing, but those that had witnessed a  _ worst case scenario  _ in person took them all the more seriously. 

Once more they journeyed together through the brightly lit corridors and instead of returning to the green rooms they continued through what felt like a maze until the walls were more wires than concrete and the sound of heavy duty fans whirring away to try and dissipate the heat of machinery echoed around them. The underbelly of the stadium was a beast, and as they entered the room at the heart of the Minecraft Championship operation they were standing face to face with technology that most of them could never hope to understand: all they could do was  _ trust _ . 

It seemed strange that a competition that required such physical and mental strength would take place in an entirely different world to the bodies and minds they had trained so long to perfect.

The doors were closed behind the competitors, rows of vertical stasis chambers lining the walls. Each chamber had room for a body - no more, no less - with restraints that would keep them in place and wires that would be hooked up to them to ensure that they were properly hydrated and fed during the time they were uploaded to the servers. The servers themselves were each kept next to the chambers, with monitors and physical  _ and  _ digital copies of their records kept. There were backups, backups of backups - information might as well have been carved into stone by the Gods that birthed the Universe with how many failsafes there were. Without them, people would die, and too many people standing in the room just then knew how awful that was to see.

“Everyone’s here then.” A man’s voice was heard, the contestants looking away from the equipment and turning to face the man that had spoken. He wore rounded spectacles and held a sculkpad in his hand, his lab coat giving off a sense that he knew exactly what he was doing to those that looked on. “Excellent. Before we get you into the stasis chambers and begin the upload I just want to give you all one final walk through of the process before we do. It’s not too late to back out - there’ll be a penalty and your team won’t have a replacement but we can’t force you into those chambers if you change your mind.” 

“You all had your blood taken just over a week ago at your medical examinations. As you were made aware prior to travelling here we used this to sequence your genome - to put it simply, we’ve had a look at the cells and in particular, the nucleus, and we’ve been able to read the little book of instructions in there that tell your body how to make you. Using the genome we can recreate an exact copy of your body, and with the perfect example you’re giving us all today we know what your body is meant to look like. This means that if you die when you’re competing, we can recreate your body on the servers and reattach your consciousness to it before we download you back into your body.”

He paused for a moment, letting the contestants nod along before he went further with his story.

“That is absolutely crucial. We  _ need  _ that link between your consciousness and your physical body to be able to reunite them after this is over. The digital body we create for you acts as a kind of  _ bridge  _ between the servers and reality. It works exactly how your body does now, which means there’s no learning curve of how to move and compete when you’re uploaded, but it  _ does  _ mean that you still experience things the way you do now. If someone says something hurtful, you’ll still cry. If you get punched in the shoulder, you still bruise. There’s no way to sugar coat it, if you die while you’re on the server you  _ will  _ feel it: you’ll feel your blood boiling if you fall into the void, you’ll choke on your blood if you’re stabbed in the chest during combat, but you will come back to life. As much as possible, we recommend  _ not  _ dying - err on the side of caution when you’re taking part in these games. When you come back into reality after the games a full support package is offered. Many of you won’t need this but for those of you that are new, or for those that experience a particularly painful death, we do advise that you take this opportunity and readjust slowly to your lives again. This  _ can  _ be a traumatic experience, but it also showcases just how brilliantly technology and Humanity can work together to produce something incredible. You are the best of Humanity, and this helps us see just how far we as a species can go.”

There was silence. Those that had competed before had stone cold expressions of understanding, whereas those that were new to the event seemed nervous. Of course, everyone had known the risks when they’d signed up to be part of the games, but it was  _ very  _ different to hear it standing just metres away from the chambers that would be keeping them alive for the next few days. 

“Does anyone have any questions?”

The silence continued, and with that taken as a  _ no  _ people began to swarm the competitors once more. Everyone had someone move towards them - the scientists of Noxcrew and the nurses that had performed their medical examinations approached them with kind smiles on their faces, trying to put people at ease.

Tubbo was finding it hard to stay calm. In theory, everything was fine to sign up to. He was young, he was fit, he was good at what he did - there shouldn’t be any complications if something  _ did  _ happen to him but he found himself fixating on every stumble he’d ever had during parkour, and every arrow he’d been shot with when practicing for Dodgebolt. The simulations had been just that - simulations - the pain that could come in the future wasn’t something he was excited about.

“Are you ready, Tubbo?” 

The nurse’s voice was kind and Tubbo looked around him, his eyes landing on his teammates who were chatting easily with their own nurses. For them, this was easy - this was just their job - and if they’d done this for years in a row and been okay then he could do it too. Just because he was a little younger didn’t make him any less capable.

“I’m ready.” He said, taking in a breath and counting to four before letting it out and giving a smile of his own. 

The nurse rested a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards his stasis chamber. To his right was George and, to his right, Tommy. He was glad to be able to give his friend one last smile before they were both helped inside, and he was secretly a little  _ more  _ glad to see that Tommy’s eyes were filled with the same uncertainty as his. He felt an awful lot less alone knowing they were going into this with the same concerns. 

As he found a comfortable position to stand in the nurse began to fasten the restraints around his body - one on each calf, one on each thigh, one around his waist and his chest, two on each arm and one on his forehead. It meant that, despite being unconscious, he would remain standing and his circulation could continue mostly unaided. After the restraints were fixed in place came the poking and prodding of tubes, a cannula in his hand and more IV’s and electrodes attached to him than he could possibly count. The sound of heart beats being recorded on machines around the room grew as more and more people were hooked up to the systems, and as one last clip was put onto Tubbo’s finger to keep an eye on his oxygen saturation the nurse smiled at him.

“All done.” He said. “Someone will be by your side constantly. If anything happens to you on the server your body should automatically respawn, but if it doesn’t whoever is keeping an eye on you on the system can input a command manually. We’ve got copies of your genome stored on the server itself, digitally in our own records, and in a paper file right here.” He gestured towards the desk with monitors on beside him, although Tubbo was unable to turn his head to look with the restraints in place. “You’re in good hands. Good luck with the competition, I’ve put my money on your team to win.”

With that, Tubbo felt himself getting light headed. While the nurse had been speaking and distracting him, anaesthetic had been pushed through the cannula in his hand and moved through his body quickly, rendering him unconscious.

The next thing he remembered, he was on the server.

Tubbo wasn’t the first nor the last to arrive, looking around at his fellow contestants as they began to appear in the spawn area. In the distance he could see the Decision Dome and the Hall of Fame but the anaesthetic that had been given to him had left even this version of his body feeling groggy and tired. He wanted nothing more than to just lie down on the ground and sleep until morning, but he felt a hand on his shoulder stopping him from sinking down as he desired.

“Not so fast.” 

_ Wilbur _ , that was WIlbur’s voice. 

“I feel like shit.” Tubbo slurred, his hands moving up to his eyes and rubbing at them tiredly.

“Happens to the best of us the first few times. If it helps, Tommy is currently being carried by Phil.” He chuckled, and as much as Tubbo was amused by the statement he just smiled and rested his head against the taller man’s shoulder. 

“Can we sleep?” Tubbo asked quietly, Wilbur nodding as George and Technoblade came into view. Now they were all on the server together and everything had gone according to plan this far everyone seemed to relax. The hard part for the day was done - things would be different tomorrow when the games began and the risk became real - but the upload had been successful. 

“Of course we can. Think you can walk to our dorms?”

Tubbo hummed, then spoke. “If you carry me too will you promise to tell Tommy that I walked?”

“Absolutely.” Wilbur’s smile was evident in his voice and he maneuvered his arms around the tired man, crouching down to put one arm behind his knees and letting the other slip under his arms as he picked him up.

He wasn’t sure at what point during the motion Tubbo had fallen asleep, but by the time he was standing again he was utterly out of it. He looked peaceful - the complete mental image of the calm before the storm given what they would be facing in the future - and Wilbur, George, and Techno didn’t have the heart (or energy) to disturb him. Silently, the team walked towards their allocated dormitory on the server and after tucking Tubbo beneath his sheets they each claimed their own bed. Technoblade had been competing the longest and had the best tolerance for dealing with the effects of the anaesthetic - he would be awake mentally going over strategies for their various games for the next few hours - but George and Wilbur quickly followed Tubbo in his decision to head to sleep.

Tomorrow their future would be determined in the Decision Dome, the Championships would begin, and things would never quite be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you missed it, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEDGo4DBn68) is the song that the children sang at the opening ceremony!
> 
> so the tags & the total number of chapters might have changed a little bit... yeah... we don't need to worry about most of that just yet though so let's just enjoy this chapter! wasn't this a nice chapter! no one is hurt! tubbo & tommy were carried to bed by phil & wilbur! george & dream got to flirt! it was all /lovely/ and nothing bad is going to happen!
> 
> (i know you trust me because... because i'm your moonie! moonie in a box, remember moonie in a box? remember?)


	4. Bingo But Fast

Niki was a busy woman. Her bakery was one of the oldest establishments in L’Manburg - it had been passed down through the generations of her family after being built from the rubble of the war for independence. For hundreds of years every morning, without fail, fresh loaves of bread had been taken from the ovens and sold to customers. More recently - under the operation of Niki’s parents - they had expanded to include a small cafe business where people could sit and eat fresh baked goods while conversing, laughing, and while the hours away without a care in the world. She tried to make the bakery as inviting as possible, wanting to radiate out a little happiness to the world from the bubble that she lived and worked in. So much of L’Manburg had modernised in recent years and while there was nothing wrong with progress, she wanted to keep the history alive: the wooden beams that supported the ceiling of the first floor were the same beams that had been built hundreds of years ago; the fireplace had been there since the war and the stones that surrounded it were engraved with the names of soldiers that had fought for the country.  _ Everything  _ meant  _ something _ , and when her grandparents had wiring installed they had taken great care not to damage any of the history of the building. Niki took that same care as she strung fairy lights from the ceiling, and when she’d brought in new furniture she’d made sure that she didn’t scratch the floor. Even things that  _ wouldn’t  _ damage the building she made sure to take care with - that the flowers on each table gave off the right kind of scent and the candelabra hanging from the ceiling didn’t drip wax. This bakery was her life, there was nothing she could think to care about more than keeping the place running and keeping her customers happy. 

Since her parents had passed away, Niki had run the bakery almost alone. During the summers and weekends she would take on part-time staff: teenagers from less affluent areas who could use a boost of their skills or someone to just believe in them long enough to make a difference. At the end of the day, any milk that hadn’t been used for teas, coffees, or in baking would be taken out for the cats that roamed the streets. 

Today was different. For the first time since the end of the revolution the ovens didn’t produce any fresh bread and the cafe didn’t open. Niki left milk out in saucers for the cats to help themselves to earlier than usual, and instead of spending a day toiling away in the bakery to produce fresh loaves she made herself at home in the little apartment above the shop. Her living space wasn’t  _ cramped _ , it was  _ cozy _ . She boiled water in the kettle while preparing her favourite mug with a tea bag and a little sugar, adding the hot water and stirring until she had the desired strength of tea. Throwing the tea bag into a small pedal bin she topped her drink up with just a little milk, and took herself into her living space. The sofa was old, but it was comfortable, and the brightly patterned throw on the back provided a little texture for her to run her fingers over as she turned on her television.

The countdown was silent, but the numbers were low. Less than five minutes to go until the footage changed to that of the clock to the Decision Dome where the teams would be preparing for their first of eight games. While the numbers flickered ever lower, Niki picked up her sculkpad and loaded up the notifications she had from her friends, smiling to herself as she read them.

_ Ant, sent 09:53: If the Green Guardians win, I’ll tell Velvet how I feel. _

_ Ant, sent 09:54: But when he rejects me you have to make me a cake :( _

And then, separately:

_ Velvet, sent 09:54: If the Orange Ocelots win I’ll message Antfrost and tell him the truth.  _

_ Velvet, sent 09:56: But you have to message Wilbur too.  _

Niki loved her friends. Watching them dancing around each other was painful at times, but she knew that the truth would eventually come out and the two of them would realise how the other felt. She wasn’t going to rush or pressure them into confessing if they didn’t feel ready to open up to the other, and she could laugh to herself about the fact that they’d both texted the  _ exact same thing _ . She typed out a reply to Ant first:

_ Niki, sent 09:57: He won’t reject you! And if he does you can have two cakes and a loaf of bread, and we can have a sleepover with hot chocolate. _

She glanced up at the screen, still another forty seconds before the ninety second countdown began chiming out on broadcasts across the world.

_ Niki, sent 09:58: Velvet, I love you, but you cannot say that. Wilbur came into the bakery twice, he won’t remember me. And even if he did, he’s an international celebrity! _

_ Velvet, sent 09:58: I could argue your bread is good enough to make you an international celebrity too.  _

Niki rolled her eyes and turned off her sculkpad, turning her attention back to her tea and her television screen. Any moment now the countdown would begin and the music would start to build… 

She was  _ definitely  _ rooting for the Green Guardians, and not just because Wilbur was on the team.

# # #

The stadium was absolutely  _ packed _ , with Bad and Skeppy sat side by side as they watched the numbers counting down on screens around them. The L’Manburg flag still flew where it had been erected the night before, and banners of each team were displayed - hanging from the open roof of the stadium. In the centre of the arena was a hologram - the image life size, huge, and somehow appearing  _ solid  _ despite being nothing more than light. Noxcrew were technological pioneers, there was no doubt about it, and the Championships had been a way to make a small fortune on the side. It meant that despite the contest taking place completely digitally, people could watch a version of events in person in the host country, it meant that tens of thousands of people could enjoy the same atmosphere as could be experienced for other sports.

Bad and Skeppy were there to support Dream. Well,  _ Bad  _ was there to support Dream, Skeppy was there to enjoy visiting a foreign country with his boyfriend. He’d met Dream through Bad on several occasions and was deliberately rooting against him - more to wind up Bad than anything else - but for him the trip was more about experiencing something new, making memories that would last a lifetime, and if that meant he would be spending the next week in a cramped stadium with far too many people cheering for things he didn’t  _ fully  _ understand, then so be it. He was just happy to be there with Bad.

Despite not following the sport quite as closely as the others around him, when the chiming began to countdown the final ninety seconds he couldn’t deny that excitement hit him. Bad’s grip on his hand tightened a little and Skeppy watched his smile grow, and that happiness was utterly infectious.

Thirty seconds passed at the ceiling overhead began to close in. Blocking out the daylight made it the hologram appear much more clearly and as the countdown approached the minute mark, music began to fade in. Skeppy’s heart began to beat just a little bit faster and as the numbers continued to tick closer and closer to zero, the crowd began to count down aloud.

Across the stadium was a room that was a lot less cramped - the presidential box. Rather than being open to the air, the room was built out of materials that ought to provide protection in the event of an attack, and reinforced glass prevented anything outside the room getting in - be it a bird, a paper cup thrown by a disgruntled fan, or a bullet. The room was sparsely decorated and in it, President Schlatt sat on a comfortable leather sofa with his arms outstretched. If he needed to do anything urgent he was capable of working from the presidential box, but his discarded tie and slightly unbuttoned shirt was sign enough that he had no intentions of this. Today, he wanted to enjoy the games.

Punz wasn’t sure if guarding the President today was an honour or an annoyance. If it were up to him he’d have the day off, he’d be watching the games himself and enjoying the atmosphere of the crowd. Instead he was watching the President watch the games, wearing bullet proof armour and carrying around a gun large enough that it would intimidate any onlookers. It wasn’t comfortable, but he supposed he could appreciate the relative comfort he was in - at least he wasn’t outside in the heat with his military gear on. He had the luxury of being in an airconditioned room with a President that he admired.

“Punz, are you really gonna stand there all day like that?”

Moving his head to angle towards the President, rather than scanning the crowd opposite for threats, he raised an eyebrow.

“Sir, yes sir.”

“C’mon Punz, this place is sealed off completely. If someone’s taking a shot you’ll have plenty of time to grab your gun and shoot him back before the glass breaks. Sit down, take a load off, have a drink.” Schlatt smiled. It took a moment for Punz to realise that the offer was serious, but as Schlatt stood to retrieve a bottle of whiskey and two small glasses he complied. 

“Tell me Punz, d’you gamble at all?”

“No sir, I haven’t the luck for that.”

“Let’s change that.” The President replied. He popped the cork back into the bottle of whiskey and picked the glasses up in his hands, turning back around and walking slowly back to the sofa in the centre of the room. He could hear the music picking up, any moment now the games would begin. 

“What do you wish to wager, sir?”

“If that Dream kid tops the leaderboard at the end, I’ll make you my General.”

“Sir-”

“Stop with the  _ sir,  _ call me Schlatt today.” He said, his smile curving up just a little more as Punz took the glass offered to him. “You said your luck is trash, Dream’s never won one of these right? Let’s get him a win and me a General I can trust. I like you, Punz. We need more people like you in the ranks. Whaddya say?”

Punz considered for a moment, looking down at the glass of whiskey in his hand. The crowd was counting down from ten now: he only had a moment to make his decision.

“Alright Schlatt. You’re on.” 

“Atta boy!” Schlatt laughed, raising his glass and clinking the rim against Punz’s.

With Schlatt sitting himself back down, Punz felt a little more at ease. He settled beside the President, removing his helmet and placing it beside him. His gun rested on the coffee table, Schlatt putting his feet next to the barrel, and he decided that he’d let himself relax. Nothing had gone wrong before, the President was well liked, and Schlatt was right - if there  _ was  _ an issue he had time to resolve it. 

For now, he would just enjoy the day.

Ponk couldn’t say the same. 

The control room that the Noxcrew worked from was cramped and hot, and with no one permitted access but authorised staff (and dozens of guards between this room and the outside world) he felt himself growing nervous. It had been fun for the first few minutes as he’d watched how the server was monitored, how the games were broadcast and how the coding was used to create the different events, but it had quickly become tiresome and instead of having something to actively focus his mind on and distract him, he could only think of the task at hand. He shifted the weight of his body between his feet, and the weight of his gun between his hands. Whether or not he wanted it to, time would pass, for now all he could do was his job.

He heard cheering above ground and glanced at the screens - the countdown had ended and the main feed now panned over the Decision Dome in all its glory, commentators narrating from a script that had been written and perfected weeks ago.

As the cameras changed to show inside the Dome - the teams standing in their own coloured areas with all their gear at their sides - the games were officially on.

# # # 

“What’re the first eight to pick from?” Phil asked. Within the Decision Dome were smaller domes - team pods - and each pod had the same setup in it. On the right there were earpieces and small redstone tablets that would allow for in-game communication within teams and would help the contestants to keep track of their opponents. He handed the devices to his teammates, popping his own earpiece into his ear canal and looking out of the glass into the arena.

“Bingo But Fast, Skyblockle, Parkour Warrior, Survival Games, Build Mart, To Get To The Other Side, Battlebox and Sands of Time.” Scott replied, reading out from the panel before him. Once upon a time the act of casting a vote for an event was manual, but now it was done digitally from their pods. Each member of the team had one vote, they needed to play it as strategically as possible.

“That is a terrifying amount of combat.” Fundy said, looking around to the other teams in the arena. “Do we do some now and get it out of the way before there’s any multipliers? I cannot imagine the points if Battlebox had a three times multiplier.” 

“I agree.” Tommy said. “We should get one of them out of the way now. Skyblockle, Survival Games, or Battlebox.”

“Well what do we think other teams will be voting for? If we split the vote too much we might not get anything picked at all.” Scott said. 

There was a moment of silence in the group, before Phil walked to the panel and pressed on  _ Skyblockle _ . 

“Vote Skyblockle, it’s Techno’s game, let’s get it over with.”

The other three nodded, following Phil’s lead in their vote, and then they simply had to wait. The upbeat music that played didn’t quite reflect the tension the four felt as they watched other teams in their pods discussing their own strategies for voting before they too cast their votes.

There was a moment before the panel before them lit up with the results and when it did there was a unanimous groan from the four competitors.

“Who even  _ likes  _ Bingo But Fast?” Phil asked. “Who  _ actually  _ votes for it?”

“At least it’s an easy one to get us all started!” Fundy said, trying to sound optimistic enough to boost morale, but Scott and Phil were having none of it.

After another moment passed, they all disappeared. The Decision Dome was left behind and they were taken to a new world for their game of Bingo.

# # # 

Loading into the open field the teams had a little time to get their bearings. On each of their belts was a series of iron tools - a sword, an axe, a pick and a shovel - and on the redstone tablets they had each carried over from the Decision Dome was a list of twenty-five items to collect and craft as quickly as possible. For the sake of the event, the day cycle had been adjusted and in a little over the span of a morning, the server would cycle through two full days, providing a chance for the monsters that roamed the world to spawn in both underground and overground for those competing to have the best chance possible to find everything on their lists.

As they watched a short countdown in the corners of their tablets flickering ever closer to zero the teams observed their surroundings and came up with strategies, dividing the work in a way that suited their individual play styles. As the unofficial team leader of the Green Guardians, Technoblade had quickly split up the work in a way that seemed logical to him and his teammates.

“I’ll go mining.” He said. “I’ll try and find a cave and get as deep as possible to find diamonds and fight any mobs I find. Tubbo can run the fastest of us all, you head for a village. Try and go in a different direction to everyone else, see if you can find a snowy biome. The mountains over there might be a good try.”

Technoblade pointed behind him, Tubbo’s gaze following his arm and looking into the distance. Those mountains were far, it would take a while of constant running to reach them but Technoblade was right. He trusted his team and nodded along with their plan. Wilbur and George would mine, but they’d stick close to the surface and try to pick up what points they could with the resources they found. 

With the numbers in the corner of their tablets close to zero they turned on their earpieces and made their way to the edge of the starting area. Tubbo stood on the south side, with far fewer people electing to go in his direction than the others. It made sense, between here and the mountains the land looked flat and as barren as a plains biome could. The mountains seemed to be the only useful thing and it made sense that not too many people would head that way. More could be found closer to spawn than out there.

The last three seconds were counted down on their tablets and signified in their earpieces, and then they were off.

Tubbo began to sprint immediately. He could hear the familiar sounds of rings coming from his tablet as teams began to collect the easiest points first. Polished granite and cobblestone stairs were almost immediately wiped off the board - Technoblade claiming the first 30 points for the Green Guardians - and Tubbo used that as an excuse to push himself to run faster. The grass beneath his feet was dry and that gave him a little more grip, the blades crushed under his boots as fast, heavy footsteps hammered on the ground beneath him. 

As he ran, HBomb crafted a fletching table and claimed 45 points. TapL found a river to place his concrete powder into and mined the hardened block, winning 45 points for the Red Rabbits with his red concrete. CaptainSparklez and Dream created a coal block one after the other, the Captain barely scraping the lead and claiming the 45 points just moments before Dream bagged 30. Sapnap, Quig, and Pete were all quick to craft a set of flint and steel. The easier objects were being quickly wiped off the board and it didn’t take long for the immediate burst of points to grind to a halt as objects became harder to find. 

The first sign of trouble came when HBomb found a bookshelf and hay bale in quick succession - clearly having found a village. A number of people had followed after him and Tubbo was concerned that his plan to find a village would prove pointless if others found one and ransacked it completely before him. But he wouldn’t let his team down, he  _ couldn't _ . Not this soon into the games.

He pushed on, focusing himself on victory, and as the ground beneath his feet started to slope downwards he saw it - a smile on his face.

There was a village before him. Small, tucked away in the rolling landscape at the foot of the mountains, but it had just enough to score some points. 

As he collected a hay bale and secured his first 30 points, Sylvee collected 30 points for a bookshelf.  _ She must have been in a village too _ . Not waiting around for another moment, Tubbo quickly began to run between the wooden buildings and tear them apart. He needed to gather what was inside them, and  _ fast _ . Rather than pulling out his redstone tablet and working through the village methodically he instead decided to break everything he could find and see what got him points and what didn’t. He broke a bookshelf, taking the books that fell from it and breaking some of the wood from the sides of the building he was in until he had enough in his inventory to remake the shelf. He smiled to himself as his points went up by another 20, before he ran from the building he was in and followed the cobblestone path to search for more useful buildings.

In the church there was nothing of use - breaking the brewing stand didn’t get him any points, and neither was the barrel he found. He was running out of unique blocks to break and test, so he brought out his tablet to quickly scan over the remaining items he could find or craft.

A number of items had already been completely claimed by the teams: fletching table; hay bale; polished granite; flint and steel; coal block; cobblestone stairs. A lot of what was left would be found underground but there were still several things above the surface that Tubbo could get for his team. There was a lot to do with cows - a cooked steak, a milk bucket, an item frame and a cake - and with snow now visible on the mountains before him, he knew he was the closest to getting that block. He’d scoop up what points he could before others realised there were still a couple of easy points available to them. 

Pocketing his tablet, Tubbo began to run back into the village. He could take out the golem and check in the blacksmith, and cross his fingers that he found enough iron ingots to make four buckets. Twelve would do it, so he needed  _ at least  _ seven from the blacksmith. That wasn’t unreasonable, and since no one else had found this village he didn’t have to worry about anyone else taking the spoils from him. 

“Night’s about to fall, keep an eye on your surroundings, it could get dangerous.”

Wilbur’s voice rang out through the earpiece, Tubbo looking up at the sky. He hoped that it wouldn’t be night for too long, though he was well enough equipped to deal with the monsters that would encroach upon him. If he found spare iron he could take some wood and make a shield, or hunker down for the night and make a run for the snow if he saw another competitor appearing.

He knew he’d respawn, but knowing that death still felt like death he  _ didn’t  _ want to risk it.

# # # 

CaptainSparklez had hit the motherlode. 

He’d run a short distance above ground, gathering wood and putting some space between himself and the other teams, before he’d begun to dig a staircase down to search for a cave. He had a plan worked out in his mind for the items he wanted to gather but his luck had turned out so much  _ better  _ than he’d hoped for.

He found a  _ mineshaft _ .

Sure, a mineshaft presented an awful lot of risk and meant he was in a substantial amount of danger at all times, but it also meant that there was an abundance of ores and treasures just waiting for him to find. He took out a torch, hanging it on the stone walls of the mineshaft, and reached for his redstone tablet. The Captain wanted to make his time in the mineshaft as well spent as possible, gathering up all the resources he and his team could possibly need to get the most amount of points still available.

Looking at the list, a lot had already been entirely claimed and many things were already starting to vanish for the higher amounts of points, but there was still plenty below ground that needed to be gathered. In a mineshaft he would have an easy time finding powered rail, and the ingredients needed for TNT and a clock would be easily found. He could still get enough to put their team in a good position for the rest of the event, and to put himself in a brilliant position on the leaderboard.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of bones rattling. The Captain reacted quickly, switching his redstone table for a sword and spending a moment in silence to try and determine exactly  _ where  _ the approaching monster was. The crackling flame of the torch just inches away from his face was louder than he expected it to be, and he was painfully aware of his own breathing, but he heard another rattle as the creature began to move and he turned his head. It was to the right and behind him, and it didn’t know that he was there: at least if it did, it wasn’t looking for him yet. He had an advantage, and he’d use that as best as he could. 

Leaving the torch behind to help him find his way back, CaptainSparklez walked slowly down the narrow corridors and tried his best not to make a sound. The ground beneath his feet was uneven and a fall would give his location away to not just the Skeleton but dozens of other monsters - a risk he wasn’t willing to take. He couldn’t set his team back with an accident this early on. 

Tip toeing around the corner, he adjusted his grip on his sword. The timing of his swing had to be perfect and he took in a breath, peeking his head around a wooden support for just long enough to lay eyes on the monster. It had its back turned:  _ perfect. _

In a flash, the Captain sprang from his position and raised his sword, using all of his strength as he brought the blade down against the Skeleton. One hit wasn’t quite enough to kill it and he rolled on the ground - scraping his hand just a little on the rocks beneath him but avoiding an arrow that flew over his head - before swinging a second and third time. The Skeleton didn’t stand a chance against him, it had been alone, and he took a moment to place another torch before taking one of the bones left on the ground from the skeleton and crushing it down into bone meal. It disappeared and he was awarded 30 points, and he spent a moment looking through the backlog of awards across teams.

Unsurprisingly, HBomb had done  _ incredibly  _ well, this seemed to be his game. He practically dominated the scoreboard, getting numerous first places in quick succession. A slight surprise came with how well Tubbo appeared to be doing - as the Captain looked through the scores he watched several more appear: Tubbo getting points for a milk bucket, cooked steak and an item frame within moments of each other. As much as he wanted to feel proud of the kid, knowing that  _ he  _ was the one to inspire him, he realised just how much of a threat he was going to be. And he was on a team with Technoblade, George, and Wilbur, the Green Guardians were going to be  _ unstoppable _ . 

Putting the redstone tablet away he returned to his plan of exploring the mineshaft. With a torch in his hand he began searching for redstone, knowing he needed to hurry himself up to get a decent amount of points.

# # # 

Sapnap had been the first to craft iron bars, and with Dream and Sylvee both scoring easy first crafters the team was off to a brilliant start. They’d put 135 points on the board and barely any time had passed. It was a little more disheartening when they watched as HBomb individually surpassed their entire team points, but Eret and Sylvee were working hard closer to the surface to sweep up as many points as they could while he and Dream searched underground for things that were harder to obtain.

“How haven’t you found diamonds yet Dream?”

“Aren’t you looking for redstone, Sapnap?” Eret’s voice came through the earpiece, followed by laughter from Dream and Sylvee. “You should have found that long ago.”

“Sorry, clearly I forgot to turn x-ray on.” He joked, chuckling to himself quietly as he continued to dig. The group remained silent for a few moments longer before Dream chimed into the conversation.

“Hey, Sapnap?”

“Yes Dream.”

“Look at your tablet.”

Sapnap sighed, pausing his digging for a moment to pull his tablet out and was immediately greeted with a  _ far  _ to cocky message. 

_ Dream has made the advancement [Diamonds!] _

“Alright, no need to gloat.” He said, smiling to himself just a little as another message appeared on the screen. “Quig just got 45 points for crafting a diamond block, might want to hurry up Dream.”

“What?! How has he found nine already? I got like  _ two  _ from that vein!” Dream complained, Sapnap laughing to himself as he picked up his pickaxe and began to mine once more. “This is not fair.”

“You might want to hurry up before Techno gets diamonds too. Or worse,  _ George _ .”

Silence fell between the team members again - Dream clearly not wanting to be beaten by his rival or…  _ Friend _ . Sapnap continued on his own hunt for redstone, finding himself increasingly agitated that he hadn’t found any yet. It was supposed to be a common ore, he must have been digging in circles around every block that contained it. Once he found redstone dust he’d be able to craft a clock and powered rail, though at the rate he was going he thought he’d stumble across a Stronghold and find his way to the End before finding redstone.

Several people managed to score points for powered rail before him, though none had crafted a clock. He took that as a good sign - that people must have been finding mineshafts rather than finding the ores they needed - and when he eventually  _ did  _ find redstone he crafted faster than he remembered doing before.

He gained 45 points for his clock, and 20 points for his powered rail. 

“There isn’t much daylight left.” Eret told them. “What’s left you guys can find?”

“I can make a crossbow, just need to find some string.” Sapnap replied. “If I can find a cave system I should be able to find some spiders, or I can make my way back up to the surface and hunt some tonight.”

“Just stay safe whatever you do.” Sylvee said. “We’ve got another day cycle after this, no one else has checked it off yet. We’ve got plenty of time.”

“You’ve jinxed us Sylvee,  _ jinxed us _ !” Dream yelled, laughing to emphasise that he was joking with his words. The four of them continued to speak happily as Sapnap began to make his way back to the surface. Krinios bagged 45 points for a crossbow and Sapnap began to move faster, Dream laughing about how they’d been jinxed again.

At least it was the first game - the points scored now would barely make a difference when it got to the end of the Championships - they still had a long way to go.

# # #

Mefs and fWhip had been painfully unlucky. They’d gotten points, but it had been a close call most of the time, and even when fWhip had been the first to craft a hopper the other teams had been minutes behind him. Countless times they’d crafted something seconds too late, or had stumbled into an ore just in time for the last 5 points to be claimed. It was disheartening, of course it was, but they kept their focus and kept working through the hours to collect as many resources as they could. Towards the end of the round they planned to pool what they had collected as a team and pick up as many points as they could that other people had missed. 

It meant that Mefs managed to pull together a crossbow at the last minute, giving their team an extra 10 points and pushing them past the Cyan Creepers to take 7th overall in the team standings. Aside from the Green Guardians, Orange Ocelots and Aqua Axolotls everyone seemed bunched together, with 100 points separating 4th and 8th. 

The team couldn’t be too caught up on their performance, there had been too much luck to really pick apart how they could have done better. There was a lot of good to take from it too - the overall standings after the first round gave a clear indicator of who the biggest threats would be going forwards. As expected, HBomb, Technoblade, Quig and Dream were all close to the top of the leaderboard - claiming 1st, 3rd, 5th and 6th place respectively. Sapnap in 4th wasn’t a complete upset, although he’d clearly been training hard over the past year to secure such a high spot from the start. What did give them all a moment of thought was the name that filled the second place spot.

_ Tubbo.  _

He was always going to be an unknown going into this - the junior competitive leagues were far different from the Championships themselves and only time would tell if his performance that round was down to the same luck that kept the Pink Parrots from appearing in the top 10 themselves. Still, it was clear that they couldn’t write him off just because he was a newcomer.

At least now the first round was over with. There would be a brief interlude to allow the competitors to have a quick lunch before they continued with the Championships in the afternoon. In a little under an hour they would be back in the Decision Dome with the eyes of the world on them once more. Multipliers would be in effect, and with the points so close between so many teams there was going to be a renewed sense of competitiveness. So long as a good game was chosen, absolutely anything could happen. For now they could be good sportsmen and congratulate the other teams on their performance, and while they ate they could try to pick apart exactly what it was they did to catapult them to the top of the leaderboard.

As the teams ate, the friendly nature seemed to have disappeared. Instead of bantering and laughter there was only strategizing and discussion. It was clear that with the games now underway rivalries and competitiveness fuelled everything they did. It was going to be a long week until they all came together again to celebrate when it was over, but the possibility of winning the Championships made it all worth it.

The games might have begun, but there was still an awfully long way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really like this chapter, niki's bakery makes me feel all warm & safe! much like this fic, only good vibes ;D
> 
> also hey, do you have twitter? well then go check out one of my favourite artists, teo! she's done [an amazing poster](https://twitter.com/teodoratautan/status/1318115599386615814) of the orange ocelots!!!


	5. Parkour Warrior

It wasn’t long before the teams returned to the Decision Dome - the players immediately returning to their pods rather than exploring what the rest of the Hub had to offer - there would be plenty of time for that when the games for the day had finished, and now wasn’t a time for distraction. It was time for discussion, for strategy, for planning and for voting. 

With the first game over with and a scoreboard established, there was now much less excitement. The teams were quiet and focused, breathing deeply as they cast their votes and waited for the results to be tallied. They knew they were being watched and that even though in the server it felt as if they were the only ones there, hundreds of thousands of people watched their every move. Sponsors, advertisers, recruiters… Even if they didn’t win the games they needed to be at their peak performance as much as possible - the better they could prove themselves to be now, the more opportunities that would come their way when it was all over.

Voting didn’t take long, only seven games were available to choose from and with multipliers now involved there were some games that many teams simply couldn’t risk occurring any deeper into the Championships. 

The panels in each dome lit up to display what everyone had assumed would be picked, and what most had voted for. No one was surprised, neither were they overly excited or upset about it. It was a game that they’d been training to compete in for months, but the veterans of the Championships knew the darker side of the game. They knew the pain of their blood boiling in their veins, they  _ feared  _ the respawning process, and many players took a lot less risks in the games themselves just to avoid the horrors of dying. Those that hadn’t competed before - Tommy and Tubbo - were given stern warnings of the dangers of Parkour Warrior by their teammates and friends. 

“Don’t risk it, Tommy.” Phil said, a hand on his shoulder before they were teleported away from the pod. “You’ll never sleep the same again.”

# # # 

The ground beneath their feet was a rich orange, the sands of the platform designed to look like a mesa blowing gently around them. Practicing in their virtual reality headsets was one thing, but standing there was another. Logically, it was all still digital, but rather than their consciousness being part of their physical body experiencing the digital world their mind and body had been separated and their consciousness was  _ part  _ of the server. The void was now as real as anything else around them, and with nothing to see below even some of the more experienced competitors showed signs of vertigo. 

“Just take your time.” Scott instructed. Tommy glanced at the man beside him, giving him a curt nod. “Phil and I normally make it to the sixth stage, if you want we can stick with you. It’s just the same as the simulation, if you let yourself think that way it’s a lot easier.” 

“It’s a hard balance.” Fundy chipped in. “It’s the same as what you’ve been training for, but slipping is a lot more costly. You don’t want to rush yourself, just take a deep breath before each section and remember what you’ve practiced, get it right the first time.”

“I know, you don’t have to baby me.” Tommy protested, straightening his back and looking out at the course beyond. 

“We’re not trying to baby you, Tommy.” Phil said. “We just know the cost of getting things wrong.”

“I know what to do, you don’t need to worry about me.” He replied, looking to the oldest man beside him. “I signed up for the Championships, I know what’s at stake.”

“But you haven’t felt what it’s like.” Fundy said. “We aren’t telling you this because we don’t think you’re capable, we’re telling you this because we want you to do the best you can without suffering like we did.”

“We believe in you, Tommy.” Scott added, a smile on his face. “You’ll outpace us all anyway, but we’ll try to keep up. Better to do this as a team after all. If you need us, call.” He tapped a finger against the earpiece before focusing back on the course before him. It wouldn’t be long before horns blared and the timer began to count down.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes to complete the course - or get as far as possible - and to try not to fall into the void in the process.  _ Easy enough _ , Tommy thought to himself, taking in a deep breath. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides, readying himself for the experience of a lifetime.

_ This  _ was where he could prove himself. Not in bingo, but  _ now _ . He deserved to be here and he would make sure everyone knew that.

Three.

Two.

One.

Horns sounded and the round began, with those most confident and competitive in Parkour beginning to run on immediately. Dream, Technoblade and Quig were the first to leave the starting platform - their hands briefly dipping into the bucket of chalk and scooping up a handful of the powder to coat their palms in as they launched themselves off the top of the stairs and down towards the slime below. More contestants began to filter after them and of the Cyan Creepers, Fundy was the first to go. He was followed closely by an enthusiastic Tommy, both men covering their hands in chalk as they took a brief moment of pause. Fundy looked to the young man beside him, a small smile on his face, before he ran up the dark oak steps - jumping carefully over the gap in the middle - and jumped from the top. As if he needed to show off anymore, he did a full flip in the air before landing in the middle of the slime below. Tommy rolled his eyes, watching the man adjust his body while he rose again and grabbed hold of the bottom two rungs of the ladder. He curled his knees towards his chest, slowing himself down as much as he could to try and lessen the force of the impact on his shoulders, before he began his ascent. 

With Scott and Phil still standing behind him, Tommy made his own start: if he didn’t go soon the anxiety bubbling in his chest would only grow and he’d never find his way off the starting platform.

Feeling his feet pushing against the wood beneath them made it all so much more real and as he jumped from the top step he focused on his initial landing and the bounce that followed. He couldn’t let himself be distracted by the wind running through his hair, nor the way that gravity was making his stomach backflip, all he could think of was ensuring that he landed in a central enough spot that meant he could bounce without hurting his legs, and aim towards the ladders. Falling now after he’d so vehemently denied the need for any assistance would be nothing short of embarrassing.

The sensation of weightlessness that struck him when he was propelled back up was strange, but he refused to let his mind linger. Instead he followed what he’d practiced, twisting his body to give himself an opportunity to grab a tight hold of the ladder. He was careful about how he moved himself as his body slowed, not letting the motion stop too abruptly and injure him, before he clambered up the last few rungs and made it to the first checkpoint. Fundy had already gone on ahead, in the second group of runners that was beginning to form, while Tommy waited for Phil and Scott to complete their jumps. They were only a matter of seconds behind him and they were right - it would be better to do this together.

The next section - the Switchsteps - wasn’t particularly difficult. It was easy enough for the three men to maneuver around, taking a moment to line up their jumps and keeping their bodies pressed against the glass panes when they were standing still. They completed it together and made quick work of the Pillar Path, landing in the sandy platform that marked the end of the first stage. 

“After you, Tommathy.” Phil said, taking a moment to replenish the chalk on his hands.

“My pleasure, gentlemen. Let me show you how it’s done.”

The three began to make their way over the Barrel Hop with the Aqua Axolotls now hot on their tails. HBomb, Krinios, Calvin and Mini were a force to be reckoned with in this game. They were almost entirely guaranteed to earn high scores, something that could easily catapult their team into first place if a stumble from the first group set them back. 

They overtook the Cyan Creepers quickly, arriving at the Narrow Ledge. This section - while early in the course - was no laughing matter. The side of the iron trapdoors they were meant to land on lived up to its name, with only a few inches between a successful jump and the void below. Calvin and HBomb made short work of them, as if it was  _ nothing _ , while Krinios and Mini spent an extra moment preparing themselves. 

“We’ve got this.” Mini muttered to Krinios, before taking his first jump. Passing the Cyan Creepers had given them some room to breathe but it wouldn’t be long before people caught up to them, and congestion here would only lead to impatience, mistakes, and  _ the void.  _ That was a fate no one wanted to meet, and as the sounds of boots on metal were carried away by the wind the last of the Aqua Axolotls made their way through the section.

The Switchback was another easy stage - although taking it for granted could lead to mistakes being made. HBomb and Calvin, obviously  _ ambitious  _ about where they were planning on placing, had already gone on ahead, leaving Mini and Krinios to navigate the jumps on their own. Krinios went first this time, taking several steps back on the grassy platform to give himself the longest running start he possibly could. He took in a breath, focusing his gaze on the pink-painted wooden planks before him, before he ran. His feet sunk a little into the soft dirt beneath them and he jumped at the last second, using the momentum he’d gained to make the first five jumps consecutively. It was only then that he needed to follow the winding path that the course took and as he made his final jump he tucked his body into himself and rolled onto the final platform.

Krinios caught his breath back and glanced at the next stage as he waited for Mini to join him. HBomb and Calvin were long gone now, and they were left to work through the Double Weaver alone, but it was the Holey Moley that would provide the first real challenge of the course and neither man was excited about the prospect of facing it. At least if they stuck together they’d have someone there for a bit of moral support. 

They continued on before Tommy could catch them - the young man pulling ahead of his two teammates - and before they lost too much of the valuable ten minutes remaining.

# # # 

The Blue Bats were in the competition because of the sponsorship that they brought to the event: it was a fact that everyone  _ knew _ . No one expected them to place particularly high on the leaderboards either as a team or individually, and there was no surprise that they had been the last to leave the starting platform. They had traversed the first two stages together and were now standing at the beginning of the Jungle. Vixella stood with her hands on her hips, blowing loose strands of hair that had fallen from her ponytail out of her face as she and her team caught their breath. 

“How long do we have?”

“Five minutes.” James replied, a hand moving through his hair and pushing it back with sweat from his forehead. “We just take our time from here, there’s not many people behind us.” 

A glance over their shoulders confirmed that statement. They could see - too far back to make out faces - two members of the Purple Pandas and one Orange Ocelot. Gluon and Zeuz looked back to the jumps that awaited them first. The Double Weaver caught them out more often than not - it had been a pain when they’d been practicing - but as a team they’d been determined to at  _ least  _ get to the next section. They weren’t going to be winning the title of Champions any time soon, but it was a personal score they wanted to settle.

“Ladies first?” Zeuz suggested, looking over to Vixella with a playful smile on his face.

“If you need a reminder of how it’s done, you just have to ask.” She replied, her hands moving to tug at her hair tightly before she lined herself up for the first jump.  _ Breathe,  _ she reminded herself, closing her eyes and letting herself spend a moment preparing before she took the plunge. It felt as though she was falling for an eternity even though she knew that she would eventually land on the slime below - to let herself think that she’d miscalculated and fallen straight into the void would only cause her to panic, to mess up further, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. When her bent legs came into contact with the surface below she let out the breath she didn’t realise she’d held, twisting her body to move through the gap in the wall without issue. A second jump, a second gap, and before she knew it her hands were on the ladders on the other side. She’d stopped moving, she’d  _ made it _ . From the other side she could hear cheers and whoops of her teammates and she quickly clambered to the top of the platform - claiming her checkpoint before sitting herself at the edge and dangling her feet down below to watch on.

Zeuz and James followed her one at a time, ensuring they moved quickly and didn’t lose momentum between their jumps so that they could reach the ladders on their final bounce. As they too joined her on the grassy platform all that stood between them and their team completing the stage together was Gluon. He still stood on the other side, giving a simple thumbs up before he dropped off the ledge to make his jump.

The first bounce went well and he easily moved between the green stained glass, landing perfectly on the second section of slime. All he had to do now was fit through the second gap and grab hold of the ladder on the other side. 

If only it were that simple.

He’d moved his body to angle towards the gap but rather than moving between the planks and glass he was stopped abruptly as his head hit against the green painted wood. It happened so quickly that he barely had a moment to notice what had happened before his vision went black. He didn’t hear his teammates calling out to him, nor did he feel his legs meeting the floating quartz blocks at the edge of the slime or his body slumping off the side and down into the void. It was perhaps a mercy that the blow to his head had rendered him unconscious, saving him from being able to experience the pain of death.

At least he’d respawn soon and be able to try a second time. Until then, his team would wait for him. After all, he wasn’t going to be long.

# # #

Quig and TapL were both long gone from the fourth stage - Space - leaving Shubble and Solidarity to make the jumps alone.

“We’ve got this.” Shubble said, her aching hands reaching for more chalk. Solidarity fixed his headband before stretching his own arms high above his head, trying to ease some of the strain he could feel in his joints. 

“Totally.” He grinned. “Just ladders, nothing hard about that right?”

“Absolutely not.” Brushing the excess chalk from her hands, Shubble let out a breath. The two of them were definitely in the second half of the contestants, but with more than a half dozen behind them they weren’t in any kind of bad place. Besides,  _ speed  _ didn’t matter now, just how far they got. 

Solidarity made his jump first, grabbing the ladder and pulling himself onto the grey terracotta block above before repeating his movements to reach the next three pillars. Shubble didn’t wait too long to follow, grabbing the first ladder halfway down and clambering to the top of the pillar before she jumped again and again. It was on the third pillar that something seemed wrong - just enough to stop her from immediately jumping to the fourth. Solidarity had already been eyeing the Triple Bounce for several seconds, but eventually he turned around to see Shubble still crouched on the pillar with her eyes tightly shut.

“Shelby?” He called out, frowning when he saw her flinching at the use of her real name. “Shubble, are you alright?”

She nodded, her lips tightly pressed together and her eyes still squeezed shut - her hands clinging onto the pillar in a way that was  _ painfully  _ obvious she wasn’t alright.

“I can’t come back for you, but I’m not going any further. What’s happened?”

“I think I’m having a vertigo attack.” She called back, trying to keep her voice as level as she could. Having competed in enough Championship games she was more than capable of recognising the onset of symptoms, though on the few occasions she  _ had  _ felt that way it had faded fairly quickly, but this seemed to be clinging to her. “I can’t make the jump.”

“You can.” Solidarity encouraged. “I believe in you. It’s just two jumps then you’re safe. You can’t stay there, not with vertigo, the platform is too small. If you get here you’ve got some room to lie down and close your eyes until it passes.”

“Solidarity, I  _ can’t _ do it.”

“I’m here, let me talk you through it. Try opening your eyes first.”

Shubble did as she was told, and even from this distance Solidarity could see that her eyes were glazed over and unfocused. She needed to get to solid land before it got worse, so he took a breath and did his best to guide her through. 

“You don’t have to do anything to position yourself, Shubble. Just look at the ladder, take a deep breath, take a step and jump.”

“What if I fall?”

“Then you’ll respawn and you can sit it out on the platform back there, but you can’t stay where you are. You just need to make this jump on your own, I can be here to catch you next time.”

Shubble’s head turned toward the ladder before her and she tried her hardest to focus her eyes on the rungs. Solidarity was right, she couldn’t stay here, and if her vertigo got any worse then there was a chance she’d fall even if she  _ didn’t  _ jump. This was her best shot. She took in several deep breaths to try and calm herself - to keep it from worsening for the next few moments - before she followed the instructions that Solidarity had given her. She took a step forward - her foot halfway off the corner of the pillar already - and jumped.

Too dizzy to think too much about the strategy behind her landing, Shubble felt her body hit against the final pillar hard. It was an ache she was certain she’d continue to feel into the next day, but an ache that (for now) reminded her she’d made the jump. Her hands held the rungs of the ladder, her body pressed firmly against the terracotta, and she pulled herself up slowly. 

“I knew you could do it.” Solidarity said, trying to make his voice sound as encouraging as possible. The platform between this section and the next had a small step down that took him just a little closer to his teammate before a sheer drop off into the void. It wasn’t much closer, but it meant with an outstretched arm he could almost reach her where she stood. “Try to jump to the right of me, I’ll be here to catch you.”

Shubble nodded. She didn’t waste another moment to think about her actions, instead quickly moving and pushing off from the final pillar to jump toward the platform. This time, when she jumped, she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about whether or not she would make it, not when she was this close and when failure came with such pain. Without looking, the jump seemed to last a lifetime and she was certain that meant she’d fallen, but she felt wood planks beneath her feet and two hands grabbing her - one holding her arm tightly and one on her back to help her balance. She was only on solid ground for a few short seconds before she felt herself being guided by Solidarity and helped to sit down. 

“Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“Go on ahead.” Shubble said. “We’ve only got a few minutes left, I’m going to stay here. I don’t think this is going to pass until we’re back at the Hub and not above the void.”

Despite her eyes being shut, Solidarity nodded. He squeezed her arm reassuringly, before letting go of her and letting her rest. 

“Once we’re back to the Hub we’ll all help you get back to the dorms. We’re the Red Rabbits, we’re family while we’re here.”

“Go get the family some more points, then.” Shubble said. While her voice still sounded a little shakier than usual, Solidarity found some comfort in her words. She’d be alright, and there were still people behind them - if anything happened she wouldn’t be alone.

For now, the path before him was clear, and Solidarity continued through the rest of the stage as quickly as he could. Time was of the essence now if he wanted to help pull the team higher up the leaderboard, he wouldn’t let Quig or TapL down.

# # #

False wasn’t about to let the Fish Bones get the better of her. She could see SB737 and CaptainSparklez a little further ahead, and Krtzyy was completing the final jump of the section. With gloves on her hands her palms weren’t as sore as some of her gloveless competition, though she still coated the tips of her fingers in a little more chalk rather than risk attempting the stage without it. 

She took a running start from the grassy platform, jumping at the perfect moment to land on the first pane of glass. Rather than stop and take a breath she continued, using the momentum she’d gained to help her navigate the course. Her hands wrapped around the glass beams that supported the panes and she swung herself around - her feet nimbly jumping and finding their footing beneath her. She kept herself well balanced while she made the second jump, repeating her strategy of swinging and jumping as quickly as possible. Until she landed on the oak wood at the other side, glancing only briefly at Krtzyy as she ran straight for the Anchors.

“Not even an  _ excuse me _ ?” He joked over their earpiece, knowing that False was already too far gone to hear him if he called out. With no one behind them for a good while, it would have been easy for Krtzyy to wait a moment longer to ready himself, but he and False had been jockeying for position over the last few sections and he wasn’t about to let her get away. 

His technique to get across the Anchors was a little different to most. Instead of landing on top and pushing off with his feet, he fell a little further and grabbed the protruding objects with his hands - preferring to swing across the void below like some kind of morbid monkey bars. It was a little more challenging than just jumping, and that made it much more fun for any spectators watching him at that moment. As his hands worked together to keep his body moving through the air he saw False moving on to the final section of ladders and he pushed himself a little harder to catch up with her. Rather than stopping and catching his breath at the checkpoint he ran and jumped across the void immediately, catching the first ladder a little below halfway down and climbing back up to the top before repositioning himself for his next jump.

This wasn’t a fun section. Losing momentum between each jump and having to reposition himself meant there was more time to think, to lose his balance, for anxiety to get the best of him and for a mistake to be made. But this wasn’t his first time at the Championships and he knew how to deal with those feelings before they became an issue, focusing on his breathing as he made his next jump. At the next platform there was a good deal of people standing and waiting - they’d caught up with the biggest group and with only a few more minutes to go it was unlikely that they’d progress past the sixth stage. Still, completing this section would give them each over 500 points for their team and with SB737 and the Captain much further ahead, they’d performed well. All that mattered now was that Krtzyy got as many points as he could to begin climbing up the leaderboard.

# # # 

The Yellow Yaks had, mostly, arrived at the City stage together. To their right they could see the end of the course - where Dream, Technoblade, and Quig were already closing in on the Final Tower - but for now they needed to focus on the task at hand: getting through the crowded Six Rings. Now they were more than halfway through the course things were starting to get harder and the number of people crowding on the obstacles made for an even more difficult experience.

Pete was the first to go. He was the most confident in the team, by far, and even with the added difficulty of  _ people  _ in the way he made short work of the obstacle. 

“Okay, he made that look  _ too  _ easy.” Michael laughed.

“Like it’s hard?” Burren raised an eyebrow, making the jump onto the first ring and moving around the glass to position himself for the second jump. Michael followed close behind him, the two taking their time and moving a little more slowly than Pete had as they heard a voice in their ears.

“How long do we have left?” 

“Another two minutes I think.” Michael said, taking a moment to pause and reply while Burren continued to jump ahead. “How’re you doing, Ren?”

“I’m on the fourth stage, I found Shubble.” His reply came through a moment later, a soft sigh following his words. “No one else is around and she’s not doing too great, I’m going to stay with her.”

“Is everything alright?” Pete’s voice came through their earpieces next.

“Vertigo from the sounds of it, but it’s worse than any attack I’ve ever had. Keep going.”

Michael looked back to the course in front of him - their team had been split up considerably now. At least they could still keep in touch with their earpieces, and with only a few minutes of the event left they would soon be returned to the Hub and could reunite with each other there.

# # #

Technoblade was still out in front, and with Wilbur a stage behind George and Tubbo stood side by side at the start of the Ice stage. The Sneaky Jumper had no shortcuts and there was no way to understate the difficulty and challenge that the section presented. 

“We don’t have long left.” Tubbo said. “Is it worth rushing it in case we can make it further?”

“If you want to experience death,  _ go for it _ .” George said matter-of-factly, offering Tubbo a shrug. “But I’m in no hurry to die again.”

“Is it really that bad?” 

“Yes.” George replied. “You pick up speed as you fall and you start to get dizzy. Even without anything to see, the world is spinning around you. The faster you fall the louder the wind gets, until it’s practically deafening you. You’ll black out as blood rushes to your head - if you’re lucky. If you aren’t then you’ll feel your body setting on fire from the inside as your blood begins to boil and your organs are put under so much stress from the force of falling that they start to rupture. You’ll die, but when you come back you’ll remember it all.”

There was a long moment of silence between the two, Tubbo’s gaze fixed on the iron trapdoors that stood between him and another checkpoint. 

“If it’s that bad, why do you keep coming back?”

“To prove myself, to get better. You learn your limits, you know when to stop pushing, you get used to it.”

“Is completing this section pushing it?”

“I mean, you’ll have to decide that for yourself. But Dream will never let me live it down if I don’t get to the Nether stage.”

Without another word George stepped to cover his hands in chalk once more and began his treacherous journey over the narrow iron platforms against the cold, icy walls. The cold added an extra layer of difficulty and as more competitors passed through, the more the ice would melt. It was deliberately kept cool and for the most part, would remain solid, but handprints had been slowly worn into the ice as more players had passed.

George got to the other side, giving Tubbo a thumbs up, before continuing in his journey.

Pete and HBomb made their way past Tubbo and rather than standing there for the remainder of the time left, he decided he too would tackle the section. He’d come this far already, and he’d been decent at it during practice - the odds were in his favour.

As he reached for the chalk he took in a breath, counting to four in his head, before slowly releasing it and counting to seven. It wasn’t going to be easy, and the cost if he fell would be great, but he was more than willing to try. Tubbo moved to his starting position, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone would be close behind, before he made his first jump.

It was easy. The first three  _ were  _ easy jumps, he was jumping toward the wall of ice, he could use the wall to stabilize himself and keep from overjumping. The difficulty came in the next two jumps - having to push himself away from the wall he was standing beside and hug the one he needed to land on, with the edges of the trapdoors only a few inches wide. George’s words hadn’t left his mind, but looking down beneath him they seemed to echo louder. A fall here would be painful, terrifying, and fatal. He’d respawn at the previous checkpoint - a checkpoint that he could see a number of people approaching - and he wouldn’t be alone, but did that make it all worth it? 

He couldn’t just  _ stand there  _ for the rest of the event, and if he thought about the jump or the consequences too much longer then he’d work himself up into a state of anxiety and he’d fail.

Tubbo jumped. He felt himself travelling over the void below and focused on twisting his body to help with his landing rather than the possibility of missing, of feeling blood vessels burst and his organs squashing. 

He didn’t make the jump. He missed, just barely, and instinctively he reached out with his arms to catch himself.

The metal trap doors cut through the skin of his fingers as he came to a sudden halt, but as he dangled over the void the pain was the last thing crossing his mind. He was still alive, and there were two more jumps between him and a safe,  _ solid  _ platform. He could hear his name being called, though he was unsure if he heard it over his earpiece or if the other competitors saw the position he was in, but he blocked it out as he focused on pulling himself back up. The cold was nipping at the tips of his fingers now, numbing the pain he knew he’d feel eventually, and he moved as quickly as he could. When his feet were able to find solid ground beneath them again (at least, as solid as was provided by the trapdoors) Tubbo felt relief washing over him. One more difficult jump, then just a leap to the checkpoint.  _ He could do this _ .

Rather than wait any longer he jumped without too much thought, turning himself again in the air and feeling his feet find metal. He silently thanked every God from every religion he could think of as he made his final jump, reaching the snowy platform and letting himself fall back onto the ground. With his eyes closed and his breathing heavy, he brought his bloody hands to his face and rubbed at his eyes. How the hell he’d survived that, he didn’t know, but he was more than content with remaining where he was now. There wasn’t long left, and that had been a brush with death a little closer than he wanted to admit.

“Tubbo?”

The young man sat up slowly, his body protesting and aching at the moment, and he forced himself to open his eyes to look at whoever was trying to get his attention. 

“Is your earpiece working?” Mefs asked. “We haven’t heard from Cubs.”

“Maybe he’s just muted himself.” Tubbo said, bringing a finger to his own earpiece. “Can you guys hear me?”

He received two yes _es_ \- from Wilbur and George - but nothing from Technoblade, though that wasn’t a surprise. The man was vying to complete the course, he didn’t need any distractions.

“I think they’re all working. When we’re back in the Hub you should check it, try and get the attention of an admin if it still isn’t working.”

It made perfect sense, and nothing else was said. Mefs was worrying over the lack of contact from his teammate and Tubbo needed to recover. He let himself lie back in the snow as soon as he was sure the conversation was over, wanting to let his body relax as much as it could. He’d done incredibly well for his first real Parkour Warrior, and now he would take George’s advice.

_ Know when to stop pushing. _

# # #

The Nether stage was the final stage of the course, by far the hardest stage. Every year it required some kind of tweaking to try and make it harder than the year before, but every year the same competitors would come back stronger and beat - or come incredibly close to beating - the entire course.

Dream had made it to the finish first, sitting on the throne and letting himself catch his breath after what he’d put his body through during the previous eight minutes. He could hear his team talking through their earpieces - Eret was still on the first half of the course, and Sylvee only just passed it, but Sapnap was making his way through the Chain Pipes at a slow but steady pace. 

A little way beneath where he sat came grunts of effort as Technoblade and Quig raced to come in second. Placement didn’t affect how points were awarded, but there was still a sense of pride that came with who finished where. Technoblade had experience on his side while Quig had his youth, and they were damn near neck and neck as they scrambled from trapdoor to trapdoor to ascend the Tower as quickly as possible. The final climb was a test of resilience more than anything else, the jumps repetitive but not particularly difficult once you found a rhythm. 

In the end, there were mere seconds between Technoblade and Quig joining Dream at the top, the three men looking at each other with exhausted grins on their faces. Having had a little more time to recover, Dream stepped towards them to shake their hands and congratulate them on completing the course before the full ten minutes were up. After the small gesture they sat in near silence, the only sound filling the room the heavy breathing and the occasional voice coming through an earpiece. They’d pushed themselves so hard and moved so quickly that the time it had taken to complete the course both felt like an eternity, and like it had passed in the blink of an eye. The minute of silence they had before being returned to the Hub felt like the longest minute that any of them had ever experienced.

With two games down, there was nothing more expected of the teams that day: they had time to look after any injuries they’d acquired, eat, and rest up in preparation for the next day. The Green Guardians had been quick to gather around Tubbo - both George and Wilbur having seen the precarious position he’d been in - and take care of his bloody hands. The Red Rabbits helped to ground Shubble and took her back to their dormitory to give her a chance to lie down and rest comfortably while her vertigo passed. Dream, as always, had gone to get a look at the leaderboard to see where he was (and where the Ocelots were in the team rankings). Most teams quickly reunited and went off together for the evening, but that wasn’t a luxury that they could all participate in.

Burren, Cubs, and Gluon were nowhere to be seen.

The Blue Bats had seen Gluon fall, the Pink Parrots had noticed that Cubs wasn’t answering on the earpiece, but Burren’s disappearance was a mystery to the Yellow Yaks. 

Rather than stand where they were, bewildered and confused, the three teams split off to search the Hub. It wasn’t voiced, but there was a quiet panic bubbling among the remaining members of the three teams as they feared that the worst had happened. In their heads, they each tried to tell themselves that  _ logically  _ it wouldn’t happen. It  _ couldn’t.  _ It never had before, so why would it now? Surely it would just be a simple error and, in time, the admins would be able to manually input the code and respawn the missing contestants.

Right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to save this for monday buuuut it's mcc day! i haven't decided if i'm watching blue black cats (winners pov) or fuchsia frankensteins (chaos pov) - either way it's gonna be insane!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter! feel free to leave a kudos or yell at me in the comments <3 tysm for reading!


	6. Big Sales at Buildmart

Tommy had been antsy since they’d returned to the Hub. He’d been one section behind Tubbo at the end of Parkour Warrior and he’d watched the incident unfold. He’d seen him fall, dangling over the void, and the words of caution from Phil, Scott and Fundy had echoed hauntingly in his mind.  _ Tubbo was going to fall into the void, he was going to die a horrible, painful death that would follow him for the rest of his life. He was going to suffer, going to be alone through the worst of it, and he was just a kid.  _

Except Tubbo hadn’t fallen. He’d managed to pull himself back up, to make the last two jumps and find the relative safety of a checkpoint. It had been enough to put Tommy off the idea of trying to make his own way across the trapdoors - he wouldn’t have been able to do it unless he rushed anyway, and he didn’t believe that he’d have the same kind of luck as Tubbo did - and had left him shaken. He was fine, his teammates were fine, Tubbo was fine: he  _ shouldn’t  _ have been feeling the way he did. And when they had returned to the Hub, Tubbo had his teammates gathering around him. Wilbur had an arm around his shoulders, George was running ahead to find a health potion, and Technoblade was saying  _ something  _ that had Tubbo grinning from ear to ear. Even from the distance Tommy was at, he could see the blood on his hands and he knew that he wasn’t completely okay. 

He’d stayed with his team briefly, breaking away to look at the leaderboards to try and take his mind off what he’d seen. 

It was strange to look at the scores and see his own name on there - and in the top half, too! He was in fifteenth overall, above both Scott and Phil, and he couldn’t help but feel pride bubbling up in his chest. He wondered if people were watching him back home - he didn’t have any kind of contact with the outside world, he had no idea if his parents or classmates were watching him compete - and that thought was enough for him to glance further up the table. 

Tenth place had 745 points.

He had 650 points.

He was less than 100 points behind making his way into the top ten, it wasn’t really until the top three that there was a huge distance between competitors. Technoblade, Quig and Dream all had over 1500 points, and they were clearly going to be in a league of their own fighting for the top spot for the rest of the competition. 

Tommy’s eyes roamed over the rest of the names on the leaderboard, HBomb was in fourth, Sapnap in fifth, CaptainSparklez in sixth and in seventh…  _ Tubbo.  _ He was proud of his friend for doing so well, but he couldn’t help thinking about how it wasn’t  _ worth it.  _ Completing the stage that had almost killed him only awarded him another 23 points, he was nearly 60 ahead of TapL in eighth. He’d risked his life for points that didn’t even change his standing on the leaderboard.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing and staring at the leaderboard for, but footsteps behind him eventually pulled him out of his trance like state and he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

“For your first time, you’re doing incredibly well.”

Tommy blinked at the words being spoken to him, before turning to face the man that stood next to him as he tried to keep his jaw from falling open.

“Technoblade.” He said, his mind rushing through too many emotions in too short of a time. He’d met Technoblade already, but having been so dazed worrying about Tubbo he’d felt starstruck all over again. And then he’d felt confused as to why Technoblade was offering him such high praise, before his mind eventually stumbled to settle on the usual confidence he displayed outwardly. “I could do better.”

“I’m certain of it.” Technoblade replied. “But no one’s watching us now, I don’t need to belittle you for your efforts.”

“Thank you?” Tommy questioned, Technoblade smiling to himself as his attention focused on the leaderboard. He was in first, but not by much: Quig was forty points behind him, and Dream only twenty behind Quig; so much could change with six games still to go.

“Tubbo’s been asking for you, I thought I might try to find you and see if it would quieten him down for a while.”

Tommy had a thousand questions running through his mind, but he tried to cling onto the detail that stood out to him the most: Tubbo was asking for him. No matter how worried he was for the state of his friend, Tubbo was conscious, able to speak, and coherently ask for  _ him _ . It didn’t make his concern go away entirely but it certainly helped to lessen it. 

“Yeah, I mean, sure.” Tommy said, trying to sound a little more confident in front of Technoblade. “I-if that’s okay. I can come talk to him.”

He’d forgotten about Technoblade’s hand on his shoulder, but the hand began to push him gently forward and Tommy let himself be guided towards the Green Guardians’ dormitory. It wasn’t far from the Hub, or from his own dorm, and it was an almost identical copy of the living space his team had been given. The main differences were the men sitting around with their boots on the table (Phil would  _ never  _ have let them get away with that) and the fact that everything cyan in his dorm was green here. It made sense, though it did feel like he was stepping into enemy territory. In a way, he was, but he couldn’t let that bother him. He was here because Tubbo needed him, and he’d do anything if his friend asked.

“He’s just in there.” Technoblade said, pointing to a door at the opposite side of the shared living space. “If you need anything just shout. Wilbur and George will be out here to help.”

Tommy nodded, giving the men in question a small wave before heading for Tubbo’s room. He knocked on the door twice, wincing a little at how loud the sound was, before opening the door to let himself in.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. The worst,  _ probably.  _ Even though he’d done his damnedest to reason that Tubbo was at least some degree of  _ okay  _ it was hard not to think about worst case scenarios, so seeing the young man sat upright in his bed with his hands lying flat out in front of him as the wounds seemed to be disappearing before his very eyes was a relief.

“Apparently, if you use a healing potion on a wound directly instead of drinking it, it works faster.” Tubbo said, smiling at Tommy. “Wilbur told me.”

“Good to see that you’re okay, Big T.” Tommy said, taking a seat at the foot of Tubbo’s bed. He waited for a brief moment as Tubbo looked back to his hands, before he spoke again. “I saw you fall, I thought you were a goner, honestly. But you caught yourself, look at you go! No wonder you’re on a team with Technoblade, you’re a real pro!”

“We’re all pros, Tommy.” Tubbo pointed out. “They don’t let amateurs compete.”

“Well…” Tommy began, giving Tubbo a knowing glance, and as Tubbo laughed he felt the tightness in his chest fade away. Tommy knew he was more worried about Tubbo than he wanted to let on but hearing him laugh did wonders to put himself to ease. This wasn’t just an act, Tubbo really  _ was  _ okay.

“It was scary.” Tubbo admitted. “I didn’t want to tell them but… I should’ve died.”

“You would’ve respawned.” Tommy said quickly. “You would still  _ be here.  _ I’m not going to let you die.”

“I know.” He replied. “But it was still scary, hanging over the void, everything they’d told me about how painful it was, I was terrified it was going to happen to me.”

“You managed to save yourself, like it was nothing. If anyone else fell there they wouldn’t have caught themselves but you did, and then you were brave enough to keep going. There’s a reason you’re seventh Tubbo.”

“I’m seventh?!” Tubbo asked happily, his eyes lighting up and a wide smile plastering itself on his face. “Where are you?”

“Fifteenth.” He said dismissively. “You’re right behind the Captain!”

“What?!”

“He’s in sixth, he’s less than twenty points ahead.”

“I can’t be as good as the Captain…” Tubbo whispered, any lingering fear from before replaced with awe and pride. “Am I really as good as the Captain?”

“Better than him, honestly. He’s what, twice our age? He wasn’t even competing at sixteen, if you’re already on his level--”

“Tommy you  _ can’t  _ be serious, I’m not better than the Captain. He’s  _ the Captain!”  _

The two of them bickered for a while, before the conversation moved away from the events of the day and onto everything else they could think of talking about: what they’d been doing at school; whether their families had come to L’Manburg to watch them; anything to distract themselves and pass the time. It was only when Tommy received a message from Phil on his tablet asking him to join the team for dinner that the pair stopped laughing to say their goodbyes.

“Tommy?” Tubbo asked as he stood up to leave, Tommy looking back to him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“You said you wouldn’t let me die, thank you.” He said sincerely. “I won’t let you die either, okay? But don’t do anything stupid, it’s still a competition. We’re still trying to beat each other.”

“You got it, Big T.” Tommy said. “Take care of yourself, I’ll feel bad beating you tomorrow if you aren’t trying your best.”

# # #

Ponk was relieved when his shift was over. Ten hours of standing in the same place with nothing to do but hold a gun and keep an eye on those that were working quietly was never much fun. There’d been a brief moment of confusion during Parkour Warrior when Burren, Cubs and Gluon hadn’t immediately respawned as had been expected, but Ponk had been trained to deal with situations like that. A quick clearing of his throat and cocking of his gun was enough to remind the Noxcrew of the military presence, and panic had been quickly subdued. Aside from that one blip, nothing of interest had happened.

In fact, the  _ most  _ interesting part of his shift took place once he’d already clocked out. His assault rifle had been locked away, though he still had a pistol holstered at his side and still wore his uniform as he roamed the halls of the stadium’s underbelly. The fans had long since left from above, all that was left walking the corridors were the event staff and the military themselves. He supposed it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see the people he did, but he still made a double take as he passed by Noxite and Schlatt shaking hands outside the room of stasis chambers. He recognised the man escorting the pair - Punz, one of his superiors - and watched as they stepped inside together. Ponk let himself smile just a little. If there’d been any kind of insubordination involved in the incident earlier, it would be dealt with.

If he heard a gunshot ringing out while he rounded a corner to climb a flight of stairs on his way out, he didn’t react to it in the slightest.

# # # 

Morning broke over L’Manburg, the sun rising over the mountains in the east and casting her rays over the old city. The ocean waves to the west and the south of the country sparkled like diamond as a gentle warm breeze snaked through the twisting streets. The breeze carried with it the familiar smell of freshly baked bread - Niki reopening her bakery. She’d taken one day off to see the start of the games but she needed to return to work now, and that had resulted in the cafe bustling with tourists and residents alike clamouring for a fresh teacake or scone as they loaded the stream of the Championships onto their sculkpads and phones to watch in small groups - something that Niki was doing herself. She had her own sculkpad behind the counter with no volume playing, watching as the camera panned over the Decision Dome. It was still a short while until the games would begin and the contestants, for the most part, were nowhere to be seen.

It was the chiming of a bell that drew Niki’s attention from her screen to the door of the bakery, the two young men that appeared looking around before going separate ways. One went to sit at a table, the other approaching the counter with a smile on his face.

“Good morning, welcome to the  _ ABC Cafe and Bakery.” _ Niki beamed. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” The man smiled, his eyes moving from Niki to the array of baked goods on display. She watched his gaze, noticing him chuckle a little at the sight of blueberry muffins, before she spoke again.

“What can I get for you?”

“Can I get two cappuccinos, a croissant and a muffin?” He asked. “That one there, if you don’t mind.” With that, he pointed to the biggest muffin on the tray. They all looked good - Niki took too much pride in her work to sell anything sub-par - but that one in particular looked the best. Nicely golden, the blueberries bright, and a little caramelized sugar on top to set it off. 

“Of course.” She replied, the two exchanging money before she set out a tray and ground some fresh beans for the coffees. “You’re not from L’Manburg, here for the Championships?” 

“My boyfriend insisted.” He said. “He follows it religiously, he’s friends with one of the Ocelots, he’s the one having the muffin.” 

“You know the competitors?” Niki gasped, using a pair of tongs to place the croissant and muffin onto a plate. “There must be a lot of stories you get to hear from that.”

“They actually recommended this place to us. Bad,  _ my boyfriend,  _ is friends with Dream. Dream’s friend George is on the Green Guardians, and Wilbur apparently came here a couple of times.”

_ Twice, he came here twice, _ Niki wanted to say, but she knew if she did her grin and her blush would give her feelings for the man away and the last thing she wanted to do was reveal her little crush to someone that could realistically get that information back to Wilbur. He’d remembered the cafe, not her, so she turned around to focus on heating up and frothing the milk for the coffees instead. 

“I think he did, it’s been manic with everyone coming in over the last few weeks.” She settled on, taking in a breath whilst she poured the coffee and milk into two large cups, placing them on saucers and the saucers onto a tray. “If you need it, there’s sugar and napkins on the tables. You should be able to connect your devices here if you’re going to be watching the event. We’ll make sure everyone’s rooting for your friend.” 

The man thanked her, taking the tray of breakfast items and coffees to his table with him as she focused her attention to her tablet once more. It wouldn’t be too much longer, and even without listening to the event she couldn’t wait to see it.

Settling at the table beside Bad, Skeppy placed the coffee and muffin in front of him while Bad grew seemingly frustrated with his phone.

“Everything okay?” Skeppy asked, raising an eyebrow as he brought his coffee cup to his lips.

“I was talking to my parents last night but Twitter isn’t loading.”

“Serves you right for not getting a phone you can text with internationally. I got you a muffin, put the phone away, it’ll be back again later.”

The annoyance on Bad’s face melted away at the promise of a muffin, and upon seeing it he gave Skeppy a smile. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“Oh, so you only like me for my muffins?” Skeppy teased, Bad nodding.

“You’ve always known that.” Came his reply, before he bit down into his muffin and sunk back into his chair. As the two sat in relative quiet, awaiting the start of the day’s events, they were only interrupted once by two men looking for a place to sit. Skeppy and Bad were happy to share their table with them - a pair they came to call Ant and Velvet - and discussed the games they were hoping for and who they were hoping would win. The conversation continued until the rest of the cafe starting to quieten down hinted that the Championships were about to get underway, and the volume on the sculkpad the four were now sharing was turned up as the image changed from outside of the Decision Dome to the interior. At the bottom of the screen was a small ribbon of text alerting to an ongoing issue with respawns, but that the situation was being dealt with and the games were continuing as normal. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, and with the organisers not seeming to make a large deal out of the situation (and no one at their table supporting any of the now handicapped teams), it was quickly forgotten as teams began to cast their votes.

# # # 

“Buildmart!” Phil said, clasping his hands together happily as the chosen game appeared on the screen in the Cyan Creeper’s pod. It was a new day, the trials and tribulations of Parkour Warrior had been forgotten by most, and the teams were eager and ready to get stuck in: at least, most of them were. The Blue Bats, Pink Parrots, and Yellow Yaks were understandably upset about the disadvantage they were placed at, but had been given no choice about continuing. The games would wait for no one, and they had been assured that their teammates would be with them again soon. The teams that hadn’t lost anyone were still blissfully unaware of the situation, and were ready to compete.

“This is easy points for us.” Scott grinned, just as pleased about the choice of game. “We know our game plan, we know what we’re all getting, Phil’s in charge.” 

“I’m always in charge.” Phil said, though the raised eyebrows of his three teammates was enough for even him to laugh at the statement. 

“I’ll call out what we need, you guys bring it back. Put it in the chests, then I’ll build while you head back to get more materials.”

“What are your opinions on pushing people when the floor disappears?” Tommy asked. 

“We’ll stand back and watch when they push you in, then.” Fundy answered for the team. “So it’s really about how much you value your own life.”

“I’ll push  _ sparingly  _ then.” 

With Tommy’s concession, the smiling team were teleported from their pod in the Decision Dome and taken to buildmart, the rules of the game displayed on their tablets as they took in the first three builds before them. For this game they’d been provided with rucksacks, pickaxes, a shovel and an axe, everything they would need to gather and build. They all took a close look at the monuments, with Phil quickly analysing what was required and handing out tasks to his teammates.

“Right then, Fountain, Sea Temple, and Iris. We need blue concrete, diamond blocks, prismarine, black terracotta, quartz, iron and diorite. Fundy you take stone, Scott get ores, Tommy on colours. Put everything in the middle chest then head straight back out, start gathering things like wood, different colours of concrete, and more stone. Once I’ve built all three I’ll call out what you need to get next. Anything I’m asking for goes in the middle chest, any excess resources go on either side. Got it?”

The three men nodded in unison, turning to the currently blocked off portal to ready themselves. They had their strategy in place, now was simply time to put it into practice. Silence fell over the team as the final countdown sounded, and with horns blaring the three sprinted out to leave Phil alone in their base. 

Tommy used his height to his advantage, taking several long strides to get around the map showing the layout of the course ahead of the rest of his team and the other competitors, before grabbing a shopping cart and using it to drive himself through the corridors faster. He glided around the fountain and caught the edge of a drop, his cart barely dipping with the momentum he had been able to gain. The sounds of shopping carts rattling was easily tuned out and instead he listened to the mutterings of Phil as he skidded to a halt and jumped into action. He took his pickaxe from where it hung at his side and headed straight for the light blue concrete. 

“How much concrete do we need, Phil?” Tommy asked, collecting blocks in his rucksack. 

“Eight light blue concrete, two black terracotta.” Came the near instant reply, allowing Tommy to quickly navigate the section of coloured blocks and grab the two terracotta he needed. By the sounds of it, Scott and Fundy were already on their way back, and as he began to run with his cart again the floor before him disappeared. He let out a grunt of annoyance as he corrected his course, irritated that he couldn’t continue heading directly back to their base, but knowing that falling would be a mucher greater cost. They’d lose the supplies he’d gathered and would have to venture out again - something they didn’t want to be doing this early on. He’d die, too, which wouldn’t be a pleasant experience. 

He was at least helped by the fact that everyone was still heading in the same direction, and didn’t have to move around anyone coming toward him. 

That changed at the fountain. He heard Fundy saying he was heading to collect coloured glass and terracotta, and Tommy jumped out of his shopping cart to run the last little distance rather than risk a collision with his teammates, and he appeared through the portal to throw his own resources into the middle chest as instructed. 

“Thanks Tommy.” Phil smiled. “Head toward lumber for now, I’ll tell you all if that changes when I get these built.”

Tommy nodded, not waiting a moment to head back out into the halls once more. As he took the first left from the portal, he heard a whoop from Phil over his earpiece. 

“First, third and fourth - here we go boys!”

“This is where it gets serious.” Scott replied. “It’s not over yet.”

# # #

There was always a sense of chaos around the Orange Ocelots. Dream and Sapnap were such loud personalities that it was impossible for there to be a moment of calm when they were all working together - and though they hadn’t teamed together before, Eret and Sylvee fit in with that dynamic perfectly. It was the reason that Sapnap and Eret were currently racing in their shopping carts, whooping and cheering loudly as they headed to gather the cement, glass and stone needed for their next build.

With a first place, second place, and fifth place secured they were doing well and didn’t want to fall behind. The second selection of monuments included Blocksketball, Island, and Parkour, which meant a lot of different coloured blocks were needed. 

“Green Guardians got a seventh, eighth, and  _ ninth _ in that round.” Dream said, a smile in his voice evident in his words. Sapnap and Eret both laughed, though he was given little more than tutting from Sylvee.

“Stop revelling in your boyfriend’s failures, we’ve still got work to do!” 

Her scolding won more laughter from Eret and Sapnap, with Eret peeling off to gather stone as Sapnap continued towards the colours. He knew he was going to be returning slower than the others but didn’t let that deter him, riding his shopping cart to the far corner of the hall. He jumped out while it was still rolling, grabbing hold of a ladder and pulling himself up two rungs at a time. 

With his pickaxe in one hand he grabbed the first block of orange concrete in reach, sliding back down the ladder quickly to retrieve the glass and terracotta from the same row. From there it was a case of working methodically through each column. One piece of yellow terracotta, lime concrete, blue terracotta… As he passed purple on his way to the pink and brown he considered sticking his foot out to trip up Fundy, but it wouldn’t  _ really  _ be in the spirit of things.

“Sapnap, hurry up, Cyan have got first place for Blocksketball already!” Dream’s voice came through Sapnap’s earpiece urgently, causing the younger man to scoff.

“Are you doing anything yourself except looking at your tablet, go get resources Dream!”

“We’re waiting on you.” Sylvee said, followed by, “Dream, you  _ could  _ get some wood in case we need it for the next round of builds.” 

Sapnap held in a snicker as he grabbed the last of his concrete, beginning to race back toward the portal. People were heading in both directions now, and with the floors disappearing from time to time it made steering his cart tricky, but he made it back safely without too much trouble in the end (unless of course, you counted Dream pulling faces at Sapnap as the two passed each other by).

“Alright, I’m here, what do you want me doing?”

“Get Parkour done first, we can get first place if you’re quick.” Eret said, and alone in their base Sapnap didn’t need telling twice. He ran to the half finished monument on his right, taking terracotta from his rucksack to place as quickly as possible. Orange, pink, yellow, blue. As the template changed before him he heard the sounds of streamers being popped and felt his redstone tablet vibrating. He worked quickly on the remaining two monuments, but if he’d looked he would have seen the text…

# # #

...“The Orange Ocelots were first to complete Parkour.” HBomb said, taking a breath. He could feel himself starting to stress and that wasn’t going to help anyone, he just needed to keep calm. They weren’t doing terribly, but he knew they could be doing better. Their real competition was currently with the Lime Llamas and the Cyan Creepers: less than 150 points had separated the three teams going into Big Sales at Buildmart and with Lime already completing one monument first and Cyan completing two first, they needed to catch up soon.

“I’m on my back, hang on.” Mini replied.

“Calvin, how’s the diorite hunt going?” HBomb asked. Of course he’d pick up andesite rather than diorite when he’d been out - he was biting back his frustrations at himself until the game was over, though. 

“Heading up the ladder now.” He replied, Krinios appearing through the portal at that moment. He gave HBomb a thumbs up, trying to reassure him, but it didn’t wipe the look of concern from his face. He knew they were trailing, and placing highest on the team he didn’t want to let the others down.

“It’s okay.” Krinios assured him, careful to make sure his earpiece didn’t pick up his words. “This is only the third game, anything could happen.”

HBomb nodded, smiling a little as Krinios quickly built the Island monument, securing 204 points for the team as he finished construction just seconds after the Green Guardians. It didn’t help as much when notifications immediately followed about the Guardians completing Parkour in third, and Blocksetball in fourth. Whatever strategy they were using, it was working, and HBomb’s brows furrowed again. 

“I’ll head out to grab the ores.” He nodded to the crown that had appeared where the template for Parkour had previously been.

“Too soon to ask you not to forget the gold?”

“ _ Definitely  _ too soon.” HBomb said, still managing to crack a smile as he sprinted out of the base as fast as he could go. 

# # #

TapL knew he was putting himself in danger by riding his cart over the flashing floor, he just hadn’t expected it to disappear so quickly. He thought he had another second, enough time to make it back onto solid ground, but he didn’t. It had flashed yellow and red and disappeared from beneath him, and in the split second his mind had to think of a solution and react, he jumped. It wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but ideas were in short supply, and as he kicked the cart down into the deep pit below he found that he had gained  _ some  _ momentum. 

It was enough to send his body toward the wall opposite, enough to wind him considerably as his chest hit the side and his hands scrambled for some kind of purchase on the smooth stone floor.  _ Dying in Buildmart was the worst way to go.  _ It would almost be less shameful to stay dead when faced with that kind of humiliation, but as calloused fingers desperately scraped at the floor for grip he felt a hand grab a tight hold of his wrist and looked up - meeting Quig’s eyes with a relieved smile.

“Need a hand?” His teammate asked, and if they weren’t in the middle of a competition (and the thought of the floor reappearing and slicing his body in two wasn’t at the forefront of his mind) TapL might have given a witty comeback, but instead he found himself nodding. The gesture was preferable to speaking as he fought to catch his breath, hopping into the back of Quig’s shopping cart as they started back toward their base.

“What are you carrying, you damn near pulled my arm off.” Quig laughed, before TapL managed to reply.

“Twenty-four gold blocks.”

“We’ve only got a minute left.” Shubble called to them. “If you’ve got anything, head back, we’ll get as many points as we can for part completions.”

“We’re coming.” TapL replied. “I’ve got everything for the crown.”

“I’d  _ just  _ got to the flowers.” Solidarity groaned. “I’ll be back in thirty seconds.”

“Hurry, I think we can beat the Ocelots if we’re quick enough. They’re less than a hundred points ahead.”

If that wasn’t going to make them move faster, nothing would. The chance to beat Dream was always one worth taking - and with the top of the leaderboard so closely contested between Quig, Technoblade and Dream, every point mattered.

# # #

“You doubted me, Wilbur.” Technoblade smirked. “And look at us now.”

“Actually, we  _ all  _ doubted you.” Tubbo chipped in. Technoblade’s second point still stood, however. The strategy had paid off - getting all the resources they could possibly need in one trip rather than heading out into the halls time and time again had saved them time in the long run. It was the reason they’d gone from getting seventh, eighth and ninth in their first three builds to all first places for the last three. With the fourth trio of monuments, time had been against them, and it had simply been a race to place as many blocks as they could before time ran out. 

The four men stood looking at their accomplishments, taking in deep breaths after rushing for so long, with George scrolling through the results of the game on his redstone tablet.

“We came first.” He said.

“Of course we did.” Technoblade replied. “How many points did we each get?”

“With multipliers, it works out around 580 each. The Cyan Creepers came second, and the Red Rabbits third.”

“I’m glad Tommy’s team did well.” Tubbo smiled. In the moment of peace, he took a second to look at his hands, amazed that they hadn’t hurt in the slightest during the morning’s event. He’d expected some kind of pain - even if it was just a dull ache when he’d been holding his pickaxe - but the healing potion massaged into his palms seemed to have done the trick.

“The Ocelots were second coming into this.” Wilbur said. “If they’ve not placed in the top three, that’s gotta be good for our lead. And your ego, Techno.” He smiled. “Beating Dream again.”

“It’s good for my ego too.” George added. “If I beat Dream this year I’ll have  _ so much  _ leverage. I’ll never let him live it down.”

Before another word could be said, the teams were returned to their pods in the Decision Dome. After Parkour Warrior the previous afternoon, and the short event that was Big Sales at Buildmart, the organisers had clearly decided the next event should take place immediately. Perhaps that meant they’d get the afternoon off to prepare for the second half of the Games, a thought that was appealing to much of the team even if it wasn’t voiced.

“We haven’t done any combat yet.” Technoblade said. “And it’s a times-two multiplier.”

“Well, what’s left to pick from?” Wilbur asked.

“Skyblockle, Survival Games, To Get To The Other Side, Battlebox and Sands of Time.” George said, a moment of silent consideration falling over the group.

“Battlebox sounds like a good idea.” Tubbo suggested. 

“There’s some strong combat teams, it would be better than taking them all on.” Wilbur agreed. “What d’you think, Tech?”

“I’m always ready to stab.” He smiled, placing his vote without a second thought.

“Battlebox is fine, on the condition that I’m the one to kill Dream.” George said cheerfully, casting his own vote. 

Wilbur and Tubbo followed suit, before the four looked out into the Decision Dome and waited for the other teams to make up their own minds. Through the coloured glass they had a good view of the digital world they were in, even if it was slightly green. It meant it was hard to see the other teams clearly, and that was why none of the men picked up on the fact that three teams were still down a person. Perhaps if they had seen that, they wouldn’t have been quite so eager to pick a game that brought death in its wake. But their votes had been cast now, and after a few more moments of quiet the results game to life on the screen.

Round four was Battlebox, and the Green Guardians smiled at each other. They knew their strategy for the game, they were confident with their fighting abilities, now it was time to prove what they were made of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buildmart isn't the most intense game to have ever existed, but battlebox certainly is. hope you enjoyed this calm before the storm (even though there's a couple of hints in this chapter that things are starting to shift...)


	7. Battlebox Begins

The arena that had been designed and created for Battlebox was a beautiful representation of L’Manburg from days gone by. Rather than the focus being on the old city itself, the arena took inspiration from the small area of land predominantly to the North - a river filled with salmon flowing through the middle of the map - the empty obsidian frame for the wool placement suspended over the water by two stone staircases that, when completed, would act as a bridge joining the two sides. The ground was mostly grass - some coarse dirt in the two corners where trees stood, representing the dense forests and filled with wildlife: flowers grew and foxes ran through tall grass as they explored their surroundings. In the remaining two corners stood tall stone towers - the material used to build them much lighter than the blackstone walls that created the border of the arena. 

It was beautiful, it was peaceful, and the miniature ecosystem that had been created was about to be destroyed with bloodshed and competition. 

“We’re up against the Purple Pandas.” Sapnap said, his teammates dividing out the extra tools given to them for their fight. They each had a bow and several arrows, a sword, their wool and a pair of shears. The additional items that had been provided were divided based on personal strength: Dream took the diamond sword; Sylvee the crossbow; Eret the depth strider boots; and Sapnap the TNT.

“That’s Smallishbeans, Seapeekay, Captain Puffy and Pearlescent Moon.” Eret said, pulling on his boots as Sylvee nocked an arrow into her crossbow. 

“Alright. Seapeekay is probably the best of them all, I’ll take him.” Dream said. “Sapnap, you go against Puffy and Pearl, try and use your TNT on both of them. Eret, you’re on wool. Sylvee, get as high as you can. Try and focus on Joel, but if Sap or I are struggling help us out instead. Eret unless we’re rushed, wait until they’re all dead to place the wool.”

“Yes, sir.” Eret joked, throwing in a mock salute and looking out of the glass that held them back. 

“We’ve got this, we win these!” Dream smiled. “There’s no way in hell we can lose."

# # # 

The Aqua Axolotls were prepared for battle. They were in fifth place, though not by much, and were determined to change that throughout the course of the game. Their team was strong and against the Blue Bats they would be granted an easy win - they just had to make sure to pick up all the kills they could before the Bats tried to rush mid and snatch victory from beneath their noses. In the minutes before the countdown began and the round started, HBomb stood close to the glass and scanned as much of the arena as he could. He wanted a plan already in place before they stepped outside, he wanted to figure out the best strategy, find good hiding spots and solid vantage points, and he’d already picked out a tree that he liked. Tall, with cover from the canopy of leaves and a view over the empty obsidian frame, he could climb quickly and provide support from above. And if for any reason he couldn’t be of any help, he would be able to jump down with his sword and pounce on the enemy team before they even knew what was happening. 

“We need to get to mid and secure it, make them come to us. We’ve got the upper hand going into this.” Krinios said, smiling at the sticks of TNT in his hands. “I can lure them out if they’re trying to hide.”

“I’ll try and flank them from the sides.” Calvin added, his diamond sword glinting under the gentle light of the glowstone lamps that shone above them.

Before anything further could be said, the familiar chimes of the final countdown began in their ears and the four positioned themselves. Mini was ready to sprint for the centre, HBomb, Krinios and Calvin had their weapons in hand-

_ Three. _

_ Two. _

_ One. _

The glass that held them back disappeared with horns sounding through their earpieces, and the four ran out in separate directions.

Mini’s journey was somehow the easiest and equally the most dangerous. Getting to the obsidian frame and adding enough wool to dominate without winning was an easy task - a straightforward run through the grass and up the stairs - but it meant there was one hell of a target on his back. As his feet crushed blades of grass he focused his listening on the footsteps around him, following which were that of his teammates and what could mean he was under attack. Krinios was the closest to him, running slightly to the left of the stone staircase and wading through the river to reach the other side with the bridge providing cover from any attempted assault. Calvin had run the furthest: Mini could only see flashes of his aqua jacket through the trees in the far left. The quiet rustling of branches above was a sign that HBomb was in position.

They’d all taken up their positions quickly, expecting the Bats to try and rush them, but there was no sign of them. 

Mini refused to let his guard down. Just because they weren’t professional athletes didn’t mean they couldn’t come up with a strategy if they tried hard enough - nothing was certain in the Championships - and assuming that their absence meant victory would be served to them on a silver platter was almost guaranteed to lead them to their demise.

“Throw the TNT.” Calvin said, his voice coming quietly through their earpieces. “I’m in cover, I can take them once you’ve spooked them.”

HBomb watched the events of the following moments unfold from his position in the tree - giving him a better view of the arena than he’d thought possible from the ground. 

Krinios lit and threw the sticks of TNT toward the Blue Bats’ base - ducking back beneath the stone stairs just in time to avoid the flashes of four separate explosions going off in quick succession. The flash was accompanied with a boom. The ground shook and debris was thrown into the air, with a cloud of dirt raining down slowly as the foxes scarpered to try and find shelter away from where the fighting would be taking place. As things began to settle, Calvin advanced, and HBomb watched him disappear into the thinning cloud with his sword already raised to get the first strike on whoever he faced.

He expected to see blood, to feel the buzz of the redstone tablet at his side alerting the team to a kill and points being awarded to Calvin, but there was nothing. 

Then there was a blood curdling scream.

As the dust settled, HBomb had his crossbow ready to fire, not sure what he was going to see from Calvin and the Blue Bats when they came back into view. He could say, categorically, that the sight before him wouldn’t have been something he’d have guessed would happen.

Vixella was on the ground, a gash in her upper arm bleeding heavily, and instead of finishing her off Calvin was  _ helping her. _

“What’s going on?” Krinios asked, emerging from his hiding spot to investigate the scene before him with confusion etched into his features.

“I have  _ no  _ idea.” HBomb replied. “Mini, fill in the wool, I’m going to join Calvin and figure out what’s happening.”

# # # 

Under Technoblade’s leadership, the Green Guardians were a force to be reckoned with in Battlebox. It was only logical that whoever they faced would try to rush, because strategizing would prove unsuccessful, and fighting an uphill (and impossible to win) battle against them. Technoblade with a diamond sword was a terrifying sight, but with the dark green of his cape he was almost camouflaged in the arena. The only thing more frightening than seeing Technoblade approaching with a diamond sword was  _ not  _ seeing Technoblade approaching with a diamond sword.

For this round, George had taken the crossbow, Wilbur was keeping a close eye on the obsidian frame, ready to place wool or fight, and Tubbo had been given the TNT. His eyes had lit up perhaps a little  _ too much  _ when he’d been given the explosives, but he was using them sparingly and methodically, throwing them into the corners as the Red Rabbits ran to seek cover.

It wasn’t as if the Rabbits were bad fighters - TapL was holding his own in a sword fight against Technoblade, using his surroundings to try and give himself some kind of advantage - but that was exactly the problem. With Wilbur positioned to capture mid, the Rabbits had to be aggressive to stand a chance of winning. Even if they didn’t get kills, it would be difficult for them to even place the wool they needed to secure victory. That was their plan, and as Wilbur watched George trade arrow shots with Quig from their positions in the towers, he could tell it was working.

“Wilbur! Watch out!” Tubbo shouted at the top of his lungs - the words carrying through the arena and catching Wilbur’s attention as the sheer volume of his call reduced his earpiece to nothing more than feedback. With his ears ringing he looked up, catching sight of Shubble running toward him with her sword in one hand and wool in another. Rather than claim a victory for the team before getting any points from kills, Wilbur reached for his sword, but Tubbo had already thrown a lit stick of TNT toward them. An arrow hit Shubble in the shoulder from above, giving Wilbur a few precious seconds to flee while she looked for her attacker before the explosion happened.

He’d still been close enough for the fabric of his jacket to be singed, and the back of his hands felt a surge of hot pain. It was a much better fate than that of Shubble, and a thud of a body falling to the ground followed a moment after the bang of the TNT stopped. She had landed close to Wilbur, the man able to see her bloody, twisted figure through the cloud of smoke and dirt. It wasn’t a pleasant sight - even  _ if  _ it meant they had a few more points - she was pale, her eyes wide open with blood pouring from her nose and lips, her legs at angles they simply shouldn’t  _ be _ and her body unmoving. 

Without being able to see beyond his immediate area, Wilbur didn’t know what else was going on. He couldn’t see if Technoblade had managed to pin down TapL, or if George had gotten a shot on Quig, but he did hear footsteps running by him. Forgetting about the body that lay several feet away, Wilbur started to run. With the Rabbits now down a teammate there was a chance they would try to rush before suffering any further losses, and that simply  _ wouldn’t do.  _ They were here to win, after all.

He had already been on the move, but the sound of a pained cry from Tubbo spurred Wilbur on. That kid had quickly become like family, like a brother to them all, and there’d be hell to pay if anyone tried to harm him. 

“Tubbo!” He cried, emerging from the smoke to find the young man on the ground with Solidarity standing over him, his sword in the air, moments away from being plunged down into his chest. It all happened so fast: from registering how terrified Tubbo looked to nocking the arrow in his bow and firing; and the moment that the sharp tip stuck in his shoulder, Solidarity faltered. Instead of murdering Tubbo he looked around to Wilbur, giving Tubbo enough time to escape, and Wilbur drew his own sword.

“Take me if you want, but you’re  _ not  _ laying a finger on Tubbo.”

The two stared each other down for a brief moment, each waiting to see if the other would attack first, but in the end there was no first strike, no heavy blow, just the sound in their ears of the round ending. Looking toward the obsidian frame they saw Tubbo standing over the green wool filled centre. It might not have been exactly how they’d planned to win, but the points were still theirs. Now that the round was over, the Green Guardians could reconvene and let Technoblade talk through the things he’d seen them all doing (he might have been engaged in a sword fight with TapL, but Wilbur was sure he’d kept an eye on them all to analyse everything they did wrong). They’d come back the next round stronger, and whoever they were up against would have no chance.

# # # 

There was an overwhelming sense of relief for the remaining Pink Parrots that they would be facing the Yaks. They knew that their opponents had also lost a team member during Parkour, that they too had been promised it was all just a mistake with the coding, and while that had been believable for a time that excuse no longer satiated the teams. If the coding had gone wrong, the command could be executed manually. It had been almost a full day since their teammates had fallen into the void and not returned, and the thought of fighting in Battlebox was something that terrified the three remaining competitors.

What if they died here and never came back?

“We’ll head to mid, no weapons.” fWhip said, unsheathing his sword and placing it along with his bow and arrows at the team’s base. “I just want to talk to them.”

Leaving his teammates behind, he made his way out of the base and into the arena. After having competed in so many Championships, he felt almost naked without any weapons at his side: he would normally fight, try to scoop up some points with kills or to claim mid and take up a defensive position, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that when they’d already lost Cubs. He felt responsible for his fellow competitors, and he didn’t want to risk any further deaths if he could help it. 

Ren had rushed to mid for the Yaks and was busy placing wool, but fWhip made no move to stop him. He had his hands raised as he walked through the long grass and walked up the stone steps as slowly as he could. Ren could have stopped placing wool and killed him - Michael or Pete could have killed him - but they seemed to be feeling the same apprehension as the Parrots. 

“Burren hasn’t come back, then?”

“No sign of Cubs?” Pete asked, fWhip shaking his head. 

“If it’s just a glitch, they’ll have to stop the games until it’s fixed. They can’t let Battlebox continue if everyone’s dying and not coming back.”

A fox ran between Pete and fWhip as they spoke, Ren completing his capture of mid in silence. While there was a strange kind of calm in their conversation, an odd sense that everything was okay as Mefs and Martyn joined them to sit on the stone walls of the bridge while they waited to be teleported to the next round. Perhaps it was because no one dared to mention the other scenario, that no one suggested aloud that this might  _ not  _ be a glitch. 

But it had to be. This  _ couldn’t  _ be deliberate. Scott worked with the Noxcrew to create the event, if it was supposed to go horribly wrong then why would he be competing? Even if this was orchestrated, surely L’Manburg and their army would intervene, they wouldn’t allow for such a complicated scheme of murder to go about on their soil.

They had faith that things would, in the end, turn out okay. Everything had to be okay in the end, right?

# # # 

Things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan for the Orange Ocelots. Dream should’ve expected that, but the Purple Pandas were much more aggressive than he’d expected them to be. Rather than fighting Seapeekay, Dream found himself locking swords with Joel. He’d lost track of his teammates in the heat of the moment - he’d tried to glance over his shoulder and find them, but that had only resulted in the tip of Joel’s sword swiping at his face - and so he’d relented, trusting his team and focusing on his own fight. 

Dream could feel the wound on his cheek bleeding: the blood flowed readily from the cut and dripped over his lips and chin as he fought. The metallic taste in his mouth didn’t serve as too much of a distraction, he couldn’t let it get to him while Joel was busy forcing Dream into a corner. If he was back up against a wall there was a chance he could be overpowered, a chance he could be killed and the Pandas would win the round. He couldn’t let that happen. Instead, he raised his right leg and kicked the man raising his sword before him in his stomach, sending Joel stumbling backwards. 

With the ball now firmly in his court, Dream used the stumble to send Joel to the ground, the man falling onto coarse dirt with a heavy thud as Dream raised his sword. He could hear the shouts of his team, he knew he needed to return to them and help them, so he refused to make a show of the execution. He brought the sword down quickly, blade piercing his chest and puncturing his lung. Missing his heart meant his death wasn’t instant, but Dream knew there was no coming back from that blow.

He left Joel to die, the diamond sword keeping him in place, and ran out of the trees they’d fought in to help his friends.

Sylvee and Eret had been chased away from mid with TNT from Seapeekay, and Sapnap was fighting with Puffy. She had taken the crossbow, but they fought too close for it to be of any use. Dream grabbed his bow from his side, taking an arrow from the quiver on his back. If he could draw Seapeekay’s attention away from Sylvee and Eret for just a moment, they could take him out. 

Everything happened seemingly at once. Dream shot as Sapnap brought his sword down and through Puffy’s hand, rendering her without a weapon and giving him an opening to kill her without any opposition. An explosion rocked the ground around Eret and Sylvee, both shaken by the movement, sound, flash and heat that engulfed them. The arrow Dream had fired hit Seapeekay in the side, not enough to kill him but enough to injure him. Pearl, hidden beneath the obsidian frame, placed the final piece of purple wool and the round ended.

“Shit.” Dream cursed under his breath, a hand coming to swipe the blood from his cheek in annoyance. That had been theirs to lose, and they’d lost it. “God  _ dammit.” _

# # #

Combat suited Tommy. He might have been an incredibly skilled Minecraft sportsman, he might have been competing at the highest level, but he  _ was  _ still a teenager. Armed with a diamond sword and hormones running wild, he was nothing less than dangerous.

Phil had taken the boots, Fundy the crossbow, and Scott the TNT. They knew they weren’t the  _ best  _ team when it came to fighting - and that when they inevitably faced off against the Rabbits, Ocelots, Guardians or Axolotls they’d be facing an uphill battle - but they had confidence in their strategies and their communication. 

They didn’t expect the Lime Llamas to push, and they didn’t. The teams were fairly closely matched, neither was about to underestimate the other, and so the battle had begun slowly. Phil and Tommy had gone to the left together to sneak through the trees, while Fundy had headed for the tower to the right and Scott had advanced to the river. Cyan wasn’t exactly camouflaged, but it was a lot less obvious to the naked eye than the neon green their opponents adorned. 

Foxes danced around Tommy’s feet, the creatures bringing the arena to life. Two of the creatures gekkered with each other, rustling bushes and catching the attention of the two men walking together. At least having wildlife around them meant any noises they made could be easily mistaken for an animal, and the element of surprise could still be on their side.

_ Could,  _ it seemed, was the key word. 

The first sign that they had been spotted and were being attacked was the sound of an arrow piercing Phil’s shoulder and a quiet  _ “shit, ow,”  _ muttered by the man. Tommy had turned to look at him, watching as Phil pulled the arrow out and looked in the direction that it had come from to find who had shot him. Focusing on that, Tommy soon realised, was his first mistake.

With the two distracted, SB737 had appeared as if from nowhere with TNT in his hands. He had a grin on his face as he ignited the detonating cord, Tommy turning to look at him as the explosive was thrown towards them. As the Llama turned and ran, Tommy felt a hand on his shoulder. Phil had tried to encourage him to run with him - away from the TNT - but for a second Tommy didn’t move. Time seemed to stop as his mind thought through every possible option he had, every move he could make, and when he finally came to a decision it was reckless, impulsive, and something that Phil would  _ definitely  _ chastise him for the moment the round ended.

Instead of following his teammate to find shelter, he headed straight for the TNT.

It was only a few strides away. It would have injured him badly if he hadn’t done anything. It would have killed him if he hesitated. But he didn’t hesitate. He picked up the explosive and threw it in the direction that SB737 had run. 

It exploded before it landed, and Tommy had to raise an arm to shield his eyes from the light, but he saw the result of his actions. SB737 lay motionless on the ground, he was dead, it was a 3-v-4 now, and they had the upper hand.

“Tommy, what the hell were you thinking?!” Came Phil’s voice, anger and concern competing for dominance as the younger span on his heels to face his teammate. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, we could’ve attacked  _ after  _ the explosion, you can’t put yourself in danger like that!”

They were teammates, equals, but Tommy couldn’t help the guilt he felt in his stomach as Phil approached him. It felt like his father scolding him, and he wondered how his own parents would have felt watching on at home. Maybe he should’ve been more careful, maybe he should’ve thought it through for a few more moments, or maybe he just should’ve run when he was told to… But it had  _ worked!  _ He’d gotten a few more points for the team, and this was a competition, that was the point. He’d respawn if he died, even if being blown up was a less than pleasant experience there would be no lasting damage.

“Phil--” Tommy began. “I’m sorry.” 

“I just want you to be safe.” Phil said, sighing. “I’ve been here every year since it began, I’ve died more times than I’d like to admit, I know how much it hurts.” 

Tommy’s next mistake came as he let down his defenses. He hadn’t meant to worry Phil the way that he did, and as Phil poured his heart out,  _ admitting  _ that all he wanted was to keep Tommy from experiencing any kind of pain, an arrow hurtled through the gaps between the branches and stuck in Tommy’s shoulder.

“Oh,  _ fuck.”  _ He whispered to himself. Whoever had shot him had been watching them, they’d shot Phil before, and Tommy didn’t even bother to try to remove the arrow as he looked to where it had come from. He didn’t know what was happening with Fundy and Scott, all he knew right now was that someone was targeting the two of them and he needed to find them before they had a chance to take another shot.

“Tommy, let me take that out.” Phil said. “You’re not going to be able to fight as well if you’ve got an arrow in your shoulder.”

“Phil, it’s fine, I can handle it.”

“You’re not gonna have the same movement in your arm, you won’t be able to swing your sword properly.” Phil told him. “Stay still, look for whoever is shooting while I take it out.”

Tommy could sense this wasn’t an argument he’d win, and trying to would only waste more time, so he let Phil approach him to remove the arrow while he scanned the horizon for the enemy.

He spotted CaptainSparklez a moment too late.

The arrow had already been shot, launched by the crossbow at a speed that was terrifyingly fast, and Tommy couldn’t have explained what happened over the next few moments. Even for those watching on around the world, it all happened terribly quickly, and those that could would be watching the moments unfold in slow motion time and time again.

The bolt was heading straight for Tommy’s chest, and at the speed it travelled at it would kill him in an instant, but his lips moved independently of his mind. Somehow, despite being utterly frozen by terror, he managed to utter Phil’s name. Somehow, despite having fractions of a second to react, Phil had managed to understand the tone in the half-word that had slipped from Tommy’s petrified lips and began to push the two of them back. 

It had worked.

Kind of.

The next thing Tommy was aware of completely, he was on the ground, the existing arrow still in his shoulder, but he was alive. He felt the dull ache on his back from his uncomfortable landing first, and then the heavy weight on his legs and stomach pinning him to the ground.

He blinked twice. Then, he processed Phil’s body.

_ Phil’s body. _

The man was motionless on top of him, eyes wide open, an arrow lodged in his skull.

Adrenaline was the only thing driving Tommy now. He yanked the arrow from his shoulder, throwing the instrument aside as he pushed Phil’s body away from him and got to his feet.

With CaptainSparklez in his mind, Tommy ran. He felt no pain where the arrow had hit him, the shock of Phil’s death was still kept at bay by the drive to avenge him. He weaved back and forth as he ran, not giving a damn as he jumped into the river and drew attention to himself, not caring to listen to the voices of Fundy and Scott in his ears as the Captain jumped down from his vantage point on the tower and drew his own sword to fight him up close. 

Tommy didn’t wait for a witty comment, or a grin, or a  _ ‘not bad for a first-timer’,  _ he simply attacked. He knew he had a better weapon, and while he had been tagged by an arrow his injury wasn’t going to hold him back. CaptainSparklez had killed Phil - he’d aimed for Tommy, but Phil had died to save him - and Tommy was utterly seething. His face was red, his eyes wide and mad as he focused on the Captain, and the moment he could he began his offensive.

He brought down three quick hits, with the Captain forced to defend. His stone sword wouldn’t last half as long as Tommy’s diamond one, and already he was seeing cracks in the weapon. It became apparent quickly that the Captain had underestimated Tommy’s ability, and had assumed that his anger would cause him to falter rather than give him strength. 

Tommy got three hits on CaptainSparklez before he died.

First, his sword dug into the Captain’s shoulder blade. The older man let out a cry of pain, dropping his sword and using his newly free hand to try and pull the diamond out of him. It was hard to grip the blade near where it had pierced his skin, with blood coating the weapon making it slippery (and the heavy bleeding leaving him more light headed than he cared to admit).

The second hit came a moment after Tommy withdrew his sword, this time slashing across the Captain’s chest. The tip only just pierced his skin, but it did enough to cause the Captain to lose what little balance he had left.

  
During his fall, the sword was plunged into his stomach, and blood seemed to leave the Captain from every possible orifice. Each wound bled heavily, he coughed up thick, bloody phlegm, and his skin quickly turned pale. 

False placed the wool, Fundy and Scott ran to Tommy’s side and pulled him out of his blind rage, and that was when the shock began to kick in.

He’d killed someone. Brutally, angrily, with his own hands and of his own accord. Sure, the Captain would respawn, but he’d  _ killed someone.  _ And Phil-- Phil had  _ died  _ protecting him. Phil had suffered  _ for him.  _ The anger and adrenaline flowing through his veins practically evaporated with the realisation of what had just happened, and he felt his knees buckling beneath him. If Fundy and Scott hadn’t already been at his side he would have fallen to the ground, but he was caught by his teammates as his breathing became much faster and shallower and he began to panic.

“Tommy, Tommy you’re okay, can you hear me?” Scott asked, the two of them helping the youngest to sit on the ground for fear that he’d only fall again. A nod was all that Tommy could give Scott, nausea rising quickly. He was afraid if he opened his mouth he’d be sick after what he’d done, after what he’d seen, and he felt himself leaning into Fundy. His body trembled against the older man, tears stinging his eyes and pain beginning to flare in his shoulder when the arrow had hit him.

“It’s okay, Tommy, it’s all digital, they’re coming back.” He said. “You’ve not really hurt anyone, no one’s really dead, you’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

There was a moment of silence that followed Fundy’s words, as if they were expecting something comforting to be said by Phil. They would meet again physically in their base when every round ended and the countdown to the next began, but until then he would still be able to speak to them through their earpieces. 

“Phil?” Scott asked. “Do you want to let Tommy know you’re alright? I think he might need to hear it right about now.” He said, concern in his gaze as he watched Tommy closely. He was pale, eyes still wide, wet and frightened as the shock really began to take hold. 

“How long does it take to respawn?” Tommy managed to ask, his gaze firmly on the ground before him and his words so much smaller and quieter than Scott or Fundy had ever heard from him. His question wasn’t answered, not verbally. Scott gave Fundy a silent instruction to stay with Tommy as he got to his own feet, casting a nervous glance at False and Krtzyy as he crossed over the bridge and returned to the trees that Tommy and Phil had started the round in.

It didn’t take long to respawn, and before a person came back their old, dead body would disappear. CaptainSparklez had still rested dead on the ground a few feet away from Tommy when Scott had left, giving him the idea to investigate the fate of their own teammate. Foliage crunched beneath his feet as he walked, spotting what he feared most in front of him. 

The man didn’t need to approach the corpse to confirm what he’d seen, a sickness growing in his own stomach as his surroundings changed and he was suddenly in the team base with Fundy and Tommy, but no Phil. 

He checked his redstone tablet, glancing at the scores and their next opponents. Phil’s name was greyed out. 

Scott looked to Tommy and to Fundy, and he said nothing as he moved to take the TNT from their chest. Their old items had been taken from them, their broken tools fixed, and while only three men stood in the room the game hadn’t stopped. 

They had to keep going. Whether Phil was by their side or not, they had no idea what had happened, or why. All they knew was that Phil wasn’t with them now, and that the Pink Parrots would put up one hell of a fight.

# # #

This was the fight everyone wanted to see. The Orange Ocelots versus the Green Guardians. The famous Dream and Technoblade rivalry, the Dream Team split down the middle,  _ this  _ was what people were waiting for. The fighters were unbelievably strong, well trained, and the historic tension and the emotional bonds between the two teams meant the eyes of the world would be unable to look away from what was going on. Even without the rest of the world knowing that George and Dream dated, even without Tubbo having a history in the competition, there was still  _ so much  _ at stake.

As they readied themselves with their weapons, they weren’t about to let their audience down.

Once again, Dream took the sword, Sylvee took the crossbow, Eret took the boots and Sapnap took the TNT. There would be no rushing mid, no victory without a battle, this was a fight to the death and they knew it. 

“I’m taking George.” Dream said. “We’ve got a bet.”

“You’re leaving one of us to take Technoblade?” Eret asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’m not letting one of you murder my boyfriend, that’s my job.” Dream flashed Eret a smile. “Sylvee, get some elevation, if I know Technoblade he’ll go for the sword, you can fight him from a distance. Sapnap and Eret, that leaves Tubbo and Wilbur. See who has what weapon, decide between you what’s best. Got it?”

“Got it.” The three replied in unison. 

The countdown sounded, the glass barrier vanished, they were unleashed.

The four split off once again, spreading out over their half of the arena until they caught sight of their assigned targets, and they managed to dictate the first stage of the battle. 

Sylvee, from her perch on the tower to the right of their base, shot a crossbow bolt toward Technoblade, watching as he damn near immediately honed in on her and reached for his own weapon. As Sapnap and Wilbur found each other on the stairs of the bridge Sapnap threw a stick of TNT to push Wilbur back toward his side of the arena - and crucially, away from the obsidian frame. Eret found himself facing Tubbo, the younger man more than making up for his youth and stature with the slightly crazed look in his eye and the explosive in his hand. This was a kid trying to prove himself, with nothing to lose and a plan  _ just crazy enough  _ that it might impress the almighty Technoblade. 

That left George and Dream to each other, as promised. Dream was surprised when George unsheathed his diamond sword, impressed that he’d somehow convinced Technoblade to give him the weapon for the round, though he assumed it had something to do with the bet they’d made. 

After all, Technoblade was fuelled by chaos and destruction, and allowing trouble in paradise to unfold would be something he’d enjoy  _ far  _ too much.

The two men circled each other, their eyes locked as their swords shifted in their hands. Both searched for a better grip of their weapon, neither wanting to make the first move just yet, rather to continue teasing and dancing around each other. The battle between them was what people wanted to see, but they couldn’t help but engage in just a little foreplay.

“You don’t stand a chance.” Dream said, his voice low. “You know it, just as much as I do, it’s almost as if you want me to dominate you in front of the entire world.”

If Dream’s words flustered George, the man did a damn good job of hiding his reaction. Rather than giggle or blush, he simply shrugged.

“You want to lose. You never lose, you always have to be on top, but we  _ both  _ know you want to know what it’s like when I’m in control.”

“Come on then, George. I’ll give you the first hit.” Dream said, the left corner of his lip twitching up to draw attention to the cut. “Clearly I can take it.”

George didn’t need another invitation: he knew that there was only a finite amount of time until the round ended and that he would receive no points for flirting. He raised his sword and struck as quickly as he could, not wanting Dream to have even a moment to prepare, but as he swung down Dream managed to block. 

He knew he was at a disadvantage, that while he was a good fighter he could never be as good as Dream when it came to combat, and he knew that with every strike that Dream managed to block he was only going to be playing more and more into Dream’s hands: it gave him more time to think; it tired George out; it slowly gave every card George held to Dream. But every time George swung his sword, Dream was seemingly three steps ahead of him ready to block.

“C’mon Georgie, I thought you’d put up  _ some  _ kind of fight at least. Is this really the best you’ve got?” Dream chuckled, meeting yet another hit. This time, instead of immediately pulling back, George pushed his sword harder against Dream’s and the distance between them closed. It was impossible for Dream  _ not  _ to let himself glance at George’s lips, poking his tongue out just a little to wet his own before his teeth grazed them gently. Maybe he could fluster George this way - gain the upper hand without having to really fight him. 

“That’s cheating.” George said, his voice much more strained as he continued to push down with his sword. Eventually, one of them would give, and George was resolute it wouldn’t be him.

“What’s cheating,  _ honey?”  _

Despite the fact that the rest of their team was fighting, that explosions, grunts, and cries of pain could be heard, the two were in a world of their own. George looked at Dream with determination in his eyes, whereas Dream seemed to be feeling something a little closer to lust. George gave up with his current tactic, and instead of continuing to push down - now assuming that he would tire out before Dream - he raised his sword again.

That was his mistake.

Dream used that moment to lunge with his own weapon, the blade sinking into George’s stomach and causing the older man to immediately falter and drop his sword. 

The fight had been agreed to by both parties, and the competitive nature of both men had meant that, until this point, it was  _ easy,  _ almost  _ enjoyable  _ as they’d parried together, but someone had to win eventually.

One of them had to die.

“Stop!” 

Sapnap’s voice rang out around the arena, loud enough to attract the attention of both teams. George was stumbling to the ground with the sword still in his stomach and as Dream helped to lower him - trying to lessen the pain he was in - both men seemed to be looking toward the centre of the arena.

“They haven’t respawned.” 

This time, Sapnap’s voice was a whisper in Dream’s ear. George couldn’t hear it, and as Dream’s eyes widened he was  _ glad  _ George hadn’t. 

“What…” Dream breathed, his eyes looking back down to meet George’s. “What do you mean, Sapnap?”

“Eret and Sylvee, their bodies aren’t disappearing. Techno got Sylvee, Tubbo got Eret, but they’re still there…”

Even without being able to hear the quiet conversation taking place between the two remaining members of the Ocelots, the Guardians were beginning to put the pieces together. Technoblade and Tubbo looked to the bodies they stood over - unmoving, still very much solid and real, and  _ definitely  _ not respawning.

“Is this supposed to happen?” Tubbo asked, his voice loud enough for Dream to hear without being on the same communications channel as the opposite team. It meant that George was the only one that didn’t know, the only one that couldn’t see a body to figure out what was being discussed without hearing the other half of the conversation.

“Dream?” George said quietly, his eyes blinking rapidly as colour drained from his cheeks. “W-what’s happening? Why have we s-stopped?” 

His voice shook as he tried to speak, Dream’s heart speeding up, stopping, and shattering all at once as he realised the implications of what was happening. If Eret and Sylvee had been killed and hadn’t respawned, if they’d  _ died  _ for some reason, then there was a very good chance the man lying in his arms was about to meet the same fate. He would have died regardless, his injuries were too substantial for him to survive, but he would have  _ returned.  _ He should have  _ respawned.  _

And George was the only one that didn’t know he wasn’t going to come back.

“It’s nothing.” Dream said softly, taking in a shaky breath as tears pricked at his eyes and his vision began to blur. In that moment he was driven by nothing other than love, a desire to protect George as much as he could and make whatever happened next hurt as little as possible. He shifted himself, sitting in the coarse dirt and not giving a damn about how dirty his clothes got while he tugged George into his arms, resting the man’s head in the crook of his elbow. He pulled the sword from George’s stomach, knowing that with the wound open he would bleed faster,  _ die faster _ , but suffer for less time. He used one hand to remove his earpiece, afraid that his teammates would talk about what was happening and would reveal to George that his death might be a little more permanent than he was expecting.

“Dream--”

“I’m here.” Dream smiled, well aware of hot tears streaming down his face. He tried his damnedest to keep his composure for George, and could only hope that the man couldn’t tell that he was crying, that he was too far gone to realise what was happening around him and figure out that his death was more serious than it was supposed to be.

“I-- I feel--” George took in a shallow breath, beginning to splutter as blood that had travelled into his mouth was inhaled. 

“Hey,  _ it’s okay.”  _ Dream whispered, helping George to sit up a little more to try and keep him from choking, to let the blood fall from his mouth and drip from his chin. 

“S’different.” George said, struggling to keep his eyes open. When they were open, they were unfocused: he couldn’t see details, couldn’t make out shapes or distance, he didn’t know if Dream was far away or close (though he swore he could feel a body close to his, warm, comforting,  _ safe).  _

“What’s different?” Dream asked. The longer he could keep George talking, focused on something other than pain and death, the better.

“S’more blue than I thought.” He said quietly, and Dream felt George’s head lolling to the side as the man quickly grew too weak to support himself. Even so, he continued to speak through quiet, slurred words. “Doesn’t hurt… S’just nice, warm.”

“Good, that’s good.” Dream said, feigning enthusiasm. George still thought he was going to come back, and so Dream would pretend that the fact that it didn’t hurt was  _ good news.  _ “It can’t hurt when I’m here. I love you, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

“S’funny,  _ you killed me.”  _

That one stung, and Dream felt for a moment as if he were the one with a sword in his stomach.

“You can kill me later if we play Skyblockle, okay?” Dream said. “Make it even. And hey, your team is winning at the moment, if we’re in Dodgebolt together I’ll throw for you. How does that sound George?”

George’s lips twitched a little, curling into a faint smile, and Dream watched as his tears dripped from the tip of his nose onto the face of his partner. Right now, he didn’t give a damn that the eyes of the world were watching. He couldn’t care  _ less  _ that he might be revealing their relationship to the world. There was a chance that, if something had gone horribly wrong, this was goodbye. 

It  _ couldn’t  _ be goodbye.

George fell limp in his arms.

“George?” Dream choked back a sob. “H-how does that sound?  _ Winning?  _ I’ve not won before, you can have it before me Georgie. You’re so much better than me, you deserve it so much more, right?”

Dream felt his tablet buzzing at his side, awarding him points for his kill.

The round ended with the Orange Ocelots and Green Guardians now tied for second place.

Dream didn’t give a shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey
> 
> hi
> 
> how y'all doin'?


	8. Shutdown

Something was wrong: it didn’t take a genius to work that out. Suspicions had already been raised when the missing competitors that had died in Parkour Warrior the day before hadn’t respawned during Buildmart as expected, and with those killed during the first round of Battlebox remaining gone into the second round it was becoming more and more obvious that something horrible had happened.

Niki owned a bakery and a cafe, she was a woman of kindness, she was well spoken, she was _sweet._

She was also on her feet before the second round came to a close, walking out of the bakery to investigate. 

If anyone were to stop her in the street and ask her what she was doing, she knew she wouldn’t have an answer. Something was wrong, but she had no real indicator of _what_ was wrong. Even if she did, she had no coding ability, no knowledge of the digital servers or the technology that was used to host the Minecraft Championships on (and even if she _did_ possess that knowledge, she knew the chances of her getting close enough to use it were less than none). Her body was being driven by instinct, her legs wandering down the cobblestone paths of the city without having a destination in mind.

All Niki knew was that she would discover more about the situation being out of the bakery than she would if she’d remained indoors. Letting her gut lead her where she needed to go, it wasn’t long before she was given more questions. 

“Ma’am, where are you off to?”

The voice came from behind her, though even with her back turned Niki knew that she was being addressed. There was no one else in the street, people were watching the games unfold, and with whatever was going on with the servers she could understand entirely why people would be glued to their screens. 

“Oh, I was just walking.” 

She turned around to face whoever had asked her the question, and as she found herself face to face with a soldier. He was taller than her, bulkier than her, and even without his uniform she expected that he would be an awful lot stronger than her. She felt particularly nervous as her eyes flitted over his body to rest on a gun at his side - a rifle, intimidatingly large in the mind of someone that had only seen such weapons in movies. 

“Allow me to escort you home then.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand…” She began uncertainly. “Is something the matter?”

“You need to return home and stay indoors. Orders of the President.”

“The President?” Niki asked. And then, as if all of her uncertainty and nerves disappeared in the blink of an eye, she spoke again. “I haven’t heard anything about this.”

“Are you challenging my authority, Ma’am?” 

“You have no right to walk up to people in the streets and harass them, whether you have a gun at your side or not.”

Where the bravery had come from - or _why_ it had emerged - remained a mystery to Niki, and as the soldier took a step towards her she held her ground. 

“I’ll say it nicely once more, Ma’am. I’m going to escort you home.” 

Niki might have relented if his words hadn’t accompanied a hand moving out to grab her, fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist. She might have thought it not worth causing any more trouble and heading back home of her own accord to see if President Schlatt had made a statement since she’d left the bakery behind, but the moment she felt a vice like grip against her skin she wasn’t about to let the soldier walk all over her.

She tugged her arm back with all of her might, letting out a quiet noise with the effort she used, before her freehand formed a fist to attack.

It didn’t matter, she wasn’t given a moment to do any such thing.

Instead, Niki felt arms on her shoulders and her feet being lifted just a little above the floor. Everything moved so fast, and the confidence she’d had just moments ago was replaced with fear. Without any control over the situation her mind sprang to several different _worst case scenarios_ \- she wondered if the military had sabotaged the event and were now intimidating citizens, she wondered if she’d stumbled upon something that she wouldn’t be permitted to walk away from seeing, she wondered if his hands would move away from her shoulders to grab her elsewhere…

The answer came in the form of her body being dropped to the ground. Niki had no time to prepare, no time to try and land, and instead of finding her footing she felt her head colliding with the cobblestone pavement beneath her. Her vision blurred in the immediate aftermath, the pain of her injury giving the soldier that had hurt her the time he needed to make a getaway. As her strength returned all she could do was get to her feet and begin to return home while trying to ignore the bleeding she was suffering from. She would get back to her bakery, her cafe, _her home,_ and her friends would be there to help with whatever had happened.

Curiosity _very much_ killed the cat, but as Niki walked slowly back towards the _ABC Cafe and Bakery_ she only felt more determined to figure out what was going on than before. The altercation had only confirmed the gut feeling that told her something _more_ was going on - something _big._

# # #

Tubbo had experienced a rollercoaster of emotions since the realisation that people weren’t respawning. He’d been afraid first - afraid that in the middle of Battlebox someone might turn around and kill him, fear that they were only half way through the Championships and there were still plenty of opportunities for him to be killed and stay that way, fear that his near miss during Parkour Warrior had been so much more dangerous than he’d thought - then he’d felt guilt crash into him like a tsunami. 

Shubble and Eret were dead _because of him._

He’d blown Shubble up with TNT, an experience that he knew would have been unpleasant anyway but to think that it had been final… The look in Eret’s eyes as his sword had pierced his chest was so much more haunting when he realised that he wasn’t going to come back.

Seeing Tommy stumbling toward him as the third round started was maybe the only thing keeping him sane.

“Tubbo!” 

The younger boy had a little blood seeping from a wound on his shoulder, but aside from that he was _physically_ okay. Tubbo didn’t waste any time in dropping his weapons and running as fast as his body would allow him to, arms wide open and ready to pull the other into a tight hold the moment he could. When they collided, there seemed to be no indication from either that they would ever let go of each other again. Right now they were both safe, they weren’t alone, and the comfort they could seek in each other kept the rising guilt and nausea at bay. 

“People are dying.” Tubbo said, feeling Tommy’s arms hold him a little bit tighter.

“Not us. We won’t. We’ll stay safe for each other.”

“We lost George.” 

“Phil died t---”

Tommy got half way through his sentence before stopping, and Tubbo pulled back just a little to observe the pain in his face. 

“Phil died to save me.”

Tubbo heard the hurt, and he just pulled his friend back into the tight embrace once more. He let Tommy rest his forehead against his shoulder, he said nothing as sobs forced their way from his lungs, he knew that all he could do for Tommy in that moment was hold him. Eventually, Tubbo lowered them both to the ground and the pair sat in the grass together. If he closed his eyes, it would be easy to pretend that he wasn’t in the arena. Tubbo could imagine himself out in the hills, maybe there would be a picnic, and all of his new friends would be there. There’d be no fighting, no killing - permanent or not, there would be no risk of death. He could picture bees flying around fields of flowers, waterfalls and forests and rainbows… 

Opening his eyes hurt more than anything else.

He didn’t hear the conversation that was taking place between Fundy, Technoblade, and Wilbur, but he didn’t need to. He already knew that Phil had died.

Phil had been their best friend. 

Just imagining the pain they were feeling in that moment was enough for Tubbo to squeeze Tommy a little tighter. 

“We’ll get through this together.” He said, trying to make his voice sound as confident as possible. “We’ll be okay, you said it yourself. We’ll stay safe for each other.”

Tubbo’s gentle reassurance was cut short by a shout and an explosion. Their heads quickly snapped to look at the destruction that had been caused, and they soon ascertained that no one had been hurt. At least, that seemed to be the case _physically._ Technoblade had taken the news of Phil’s death particularly badly, and after the dust of the explosion settled he screamed. It was loud, and the pain he felt resonated in the chests of all the survivors on both teams in the arena. 

The worst part of it all came with the vibration of the redstone tablets - a reminder that time still ticked by, that they were still expected to play the game. Wilbur began to fill in the centre with wool and when Scott and Fundy took a step towards them, Technoblade lifted his diamond sword. 

Points were awarded, and Tubbo looked back to Tommy.

“I don’t want to do this, I don’t want to fight anymore. I want to go _home.”_

Tommy’s words broke Tubbo’s heart. He might wear his heart on his sleeve, but he never _voiced_ his worst emotions. Heartbreak and pain were evident in his eyes but Tommy always tried to keep his words strong - the very fact that he’d given up on even trying to appear braver than he felt gave Tubbo insight into just how much the games were affecting him.

“We’ll go home soon, Tommy.” Tubbo said. “This won’t last forever.”

He wasn’t sure if Tommy would believe him. He certainly didn’t believe himself. 

# # # 

Dream hadn’t said a word to Sapnap since the second round had ended. He didn’t need to say anything, they were both thinking the exact same thing.

George was dead.

George, their best friend, Dream’s partner, was dead. There was no pretending he wasn’t gone, no pretending it would all be okay. He had died in Dream’s arms, he had died at the hand of Dream, and the round had finished before Sapnap had the chance to run and join Dream. He hadn’t been able to see the body, hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye.

It felt awful to be so fixated on George when their base was missing two of their teammates, two of their friends, but it was impossible to think about anything else. There was too much pain to handle at once, they were utterly unable of processing it all and on top of losing their friends there was still more to think about: they could be next.

Any moment could be their last, there was still so much more to come, and it was too much to handle at once. 

Dream reached for the sword and the TNT. Sapnap didn’t pick up any extra weapons. 

The third round began and the two men stepped out into the arena, Krtzyy and False standing opposite them. Neither of the two remaining Lime Llamas had taken any extra equipment. Dream was the only one looking for a fight.

Sapnap took a step forward, wool in his hands as he began to approach the frame to claim a victory. Krtzyy and False stood where they were - unwilling to risk their own lives. 

It didn’t matter.

The TNT exploded the moment it landed at their feet, and Dream tightened his grip on his sword. Sapnap looked away from the frame with wide eyes as his teammate ran past him, a maddening cackle leaving Dream’s lips as False and Krtzyy’s bodies fell back to the ground with heavy thuds. They were burned, disfigured, _conclusively dead_ and yet still he ran ready to cause even more damage to their corpses.

Sapnap felt nothing but horror at the realisation of his friend’s intentions, stopping it the only way he knew how. 

He placed the last of the wool needed to secure victory, and before Dream could reach the mangled bodies of the Llamas they were teleported back to their base. The sword that had been in Dream’s hand disappeared, and he came to an abrupt halt as he realised that his surroundings had changed. There was barely a second between returning to the base and feeling his body being pushed backwards, hands on his shoulders and his feet stumbling over themselves until he felt his back pressed against a wall.

“What the _fuck,_ Dream?!” Sapnap all but screamed in his face. “You _killed them!”_

“I got points--”

“Fucking _points?!”_

Sapnap considered slapping Dream, or moving his hands to his throat and applying enough pressure to drag him out of whatever headspace he was in. 

“They’re not fucking _respawning,_ you killed them and now they’re _dead, forever,_ for some fucking _points?!_ Points don’t fucking matter anymore Dream! None of this does, are you blind?!”

“Points don’t matter now, but they did when George died?”

Sapnap only pushed harder then, practically growing at Dream through gritted teeth.

“If you think for even a _second_ that George would want you to use his death to excuse murder, then you never really loved him. George was my friend too, I’m hurting too, but this isn’t how you’re supposed to go about dealing with it.” 

“You want to just ignore the fact that George is dead? To just move on with your life?”

“Fuck, Dream, _no,_ I want this to end. I want to get out of this game, to get back to the Hub, to be somewhere we aren’t at risk of dying, to be able to think about it properly. To mourn him without watching my back!”

“I loved him, Sapnap.” Dream spat, the words like poison daggers. “I fucking loved him, and whatever’s going on here, someone tricked me into murdering the love of my life. You think I can watch him die because of me and just act like nothing happened? Let all these people _live?_ Why do they deserve to live more than George?”

“Why do they deserve to die more than him?! None of them are at fault, Dream, you have to understand this!”

“ _Someone_ is at fault, _someone_ did this, how do we know it’s not any of the people around us?”

“Snap out of this, Dream this isn’t you…”

“How do I know it isn’t _you?”_

The round began, but with Sapnap’s arms still pinning Dream firmly against the wall the Pink Parrots weren’t in danger. _No one else would die today._

“If you think it’s me, then you’d be trying to kill me.”

“Is that a challenge, Sapnap?”

Sapnap blinked twice, his hands moving away from Dream’s shoulders as he took a step back. This wasn’t Dream talking, he knew this wasn’t Dream. Dream was his best friend, this was a man driven mad by grief and trauma, but the threat still hurt.

Dream straightened himself, shoving past Sapnap as the round came to a close with the Pink Parrots able to fill in the obsidian frame without any interruptions. 

He grabbed a crossbow from the side, taking an arrow from his quiver and nocking it in the mechanism.

“...Dream?”

# # #

Skeppy was the first person to be able to tear his eyes away from the screen when the door to the bakery opened. Bad, Ant and Velvet were glued to the horrors unfolding in the arena, and they only looked up when Skeppy got to his feet. 

Niki looked awful. People hadn't realised she'd gone when she’d first snuck out, but now she had returned with her eyes wide and hair soaked with blood. As Skeppy had approached her, Ant got to his feet quickly and followed, with Bad and Velvet exchanging looks of concern before they too got to their feet and squeezed their way through customers and tables to reach her side. 

"Niki--" Ant didn't hesitate in taking her face in his hands. Skeppy stood to the side of her, letting her lean against him as Ant's fingers brushed carefully over her skin to examine for any further injuries. 

"I just need to sit down." She said weakly, her defenses beginning to crumble now her friends were at her side. 

"Skeppy, help me take her upstairs." Ant said. "Velvet, stick with Bad and keep an eye on what's going on down here, we'll let you know if we need any more help." 

Nods came from Bad and Velvet, with Niki leaning further into Skeppy as they walked behind the counter of the bakery and toward a staircase that led to her apartment above the shop. They moved slowly, floorboards creaking with every step as Ant went on ahead to find bandages, pain relief, and something cold for Niki's head. Even though Skeppy had only had one conversation with Niki he felt compelled to ensure that she was okay, and worry fluttered in his stomach with every step they took.

“What happened?” He asked softly, wanting to help distract her from the pain and keep her conscious as more and more of her weight became rested on him.

“There was a soldier…” She began. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“That’s okay, you don’t need to, you’re alright though. We’re going to help you.” 

Skeppy had to admit that he felt a little lost: this was Bad’s forte, not his. He didn’t always know the right words to say to make things better and with this young woman he barely knew clearly injured, he was struggling for what to do. Relief only came when they reached the top of the staircase and were met again by Ant, who helped Skeppy and Niki inside and brought her to sit on her sofa. Wordlessly, Skeppy took the bandages from Ant and began to part Niki’s hair as gently as possible to try and find where she was bleeding and how bad it looked. There was a chance that the bandages would be utterly worthless, but having them made Skeppy feel like he could do something to help.

“Niki…” Ant said quietly, his hands moving to hold hers, the tips of his fingers brushing gently over her skin. “We’re here, you’re alright. You’re safe now.”

“I just don’t know what’s happening.” She replied, tears falling from the corners of her eyes as she blinked quickly. “He said we had to stay inside, that the President had ordered it.”

“Who did, Niki?” Ant asked, looking away from her only for a moment to turn the television on. Whatever was going on, if the President was involved then _someone_ would be broadcasting it. “Take your time, tell us everything.”

“I felt… Something’s happening.” Niki began, taking in a sharp breath as Skeppy’s fingers brushed over the bump on her head. One hand was placed on her shoulder as a silent apology before she continued speaking. “I was just walking, a soldier told me I had to go back inside and when I refused he grabbed me. He picked me up and dropped me and left.”

“Where did he grab you?” Ant’s voice was concerned. “Did he do anything else to hurt you?”

“My wrist, my shoulders, it’ll be nothing more than a few bruises.”

Before Ant could ask anything more of Niki the screen on the television behind him changed, showing exactly what had been expected.

The President, surrounded by his guards, standing on a stage surrounded by flags of L’Manburg alongside Noxite. It seemed that they were going to receive _some_ answers after all…

# # # 

“Ladies and Gentlemen - citizens of L’Manburg - I stand before you today with a heavy heart and a grave message: our country is under attack. Overnight, international efforts to take out our communications networks succeeded, and a calculated attack on the systems that run the Minecraft Championships have severely damaged what little was still operating. The Noxcrew have paused the games and are working as we speak to bring the contestants back into reality as safely and as quickly as possible. 

Citizens, I seek to reassure you that L’Manburg will _not_ take this act of war lightly. This attack on the lives of our people, the sabotage of an event with international renown, will not be forgotten. 

I will be imposing a sharp, short shutdown of our country whilst this threat is dealt with. Those not in their homes will see a grace period of no more than sixty minutes to return to where they will spend the next forty-eight hours. The military will escort anyone still in public after this grace period to their homes, and I ask that you comply with their requests. Those that do not comply may be investigated as we search for those that have completed these horrific acts.

Ladies and Gentlemen, when I became your President I promised many things. I promised prosperity, I promised to support those less fortunate, and I promised to keep you safe. I promised to keep our Nation great, to place L’Manburg on the world stage and work with our enemies to find a common ground rather than resort to warfare. While this is a promise I still very much wish to uphold to you all, it is one that I may have to break to ensure that our country is kept safe, our borders remain secure, and our people can flourish.

If we work together, people of Manburg, then the threat we face today will be in our past before we know it. If we work together, this place will be a lot different tomorrow - let’s start making it happen.”

With his speech over, the cameras stopped filming and Schlatt turned on the balls of his heels to face Noxite. He took a flask from the inside pocket of his blazer, unscrewing the cap to take a quick swig before proceeding. Most of his soldiers left the stage, with only Punz remaining by his side. The three walked away from the microphone, out of the room that had been set up for the broadcast, and once they were decidedly alone, Schlatt spoke.

“That should keep the bastards happy.”

# # #

Sapnap had never felt smaller. He looked up at his best friend and saw _nothing_ in his eyes. There was no emotion, no sign of the decade of friendship or the history between them. No love, no care… Even the heartbreak and pain was gone. Dream like this was somehow even more terrifying than Dream screaming and shouting. 

Dream like this wasn’t Dream, it wasn’t even _close_ to Dream. And Sapnap had no idea if the man standing before him would pull the trigger on the crossbow and send the bolt straight through his heart.

He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, and held his breath,

As the round began and the glass holding the pair of them in their base vanished, the crossbow fired.

When Sapnap felt nothing he wondered if the arrow had severed his parietal lobe, but when he allowed his eyes to reopen to confirm his worst fears he instead saw Dream still holding the crossbow aimed across the arena. His breathing was slow and his shoulders unmoving, and as Sapnap followed his gaze he saw the victim.

The Blue Bats weren’t serious competitors in this game - they of all people didn’t deserve to meet an end like this - they were friends before they were a team. It showed when Vixella’s scream echoed around the arena, even though it had been Zeuz to fall. Dream sauntered without a care toward the obsidian frame, wool in hand, and Sapnap watched on in disbelief. Dream couldn’t see what he was doing, couldn’t see that the way he was mourning would only upset George if he was watching on, and he certainly couldn’t see how much he was hurting Sapnap. The man felt as if he couldn’t grieve for George because he had to keep Dream from murdering the rest of their friends in a blind rage - and because he had to ensure that Dream didn’t turn around and kill him.

As the round came to a close, Sapnap looked at the standings. They were in first, with the Green Guardians close behind and the Red Rabbits in third. The points hadn’t moved enough to represent anyone else killing since it had become apparent in the second round that people’s fates were permanent. Dream needed to stop before people caught on to what was happening and a target was painted on him even more than usual…

# # #

The Red Rabbits were 100 points behind the Orange Ocelots. A wool victory - with the multipliers - secured 80 points for the team, but that wasn’t enough. Not only were the Ocelots placing their wool, but they were also getting points for kills. With 30 points a kill, the team would continue to extend their lead if they carried on the way they were going. TapL had taken the sword and Solidarity the TNT - the team still gearing up for a fight whenever they stepped out into the arena _just in case._ Since losing Shubble, the arrangement not to harm their opposition had been unspoken between them, but Quig found himself weighing his crossbow between his hands. This round, they were facing the Cyan Creepers, a team of Phil, Scott, Fundy and Tommy. There was a chance that they’d already lost someone, and that they _too_ were playing it safe, but if they hadn’t then they were a strong team - in fourth place on the leaderboards and nipping at the heels of the Rabbits… 

The young man swallowed and ran his fingers through his hair. Tommy was younger than him, he wouldn’t hurt the kid. Not now, anyway. If it came to it, if his hand was forced, he could find the strength in himself to do it, but he wouldn’t hurt him by choice. 

Fundy was the one member of their team in the top 10 individually, and while he wasn’t even close to Quig or TapL it made him the biggest threat. 

Quig loaded his crossbow quietly, then stood by the side of his teammates without saying a word. They didn’t need to know.

When the round began, the three men made their way out of their base. Solidarity and TapL started towards the obsidian frame in the middle, but Quig had other plans. With every step he took he forced himself to remain grounded - he focused on the blades of grass brushing the cuffs of his jeans, he listened to the sound of his clothes brushing against each other, anything _other_ than the beating of his heart and trembling of his hands. He checked over his shoulder once, TapL and Solidarity weren’t looking at him, and so he began to climb.

He didn’t need to get high, and he needed to act as quickly as possible, so he focused himself on finding footholds in the stonework of the tower. With his crossbow already loaded he only needed one hand to fire, and it didn’t take him long to get the elevation he needed.

Quig took one hand away from the stone, grabbed his crossbow and twisted his body to face the centre of the arena. Taking in a deep breath, he tightened his muscles in his stomach to keep himself still. He just needed to hold steady for long enough to line up his aim and pull the trigger. Rather than think his decision through again, he pulled with his index finger and then released.

The bolt hit Fundy’s throat, and Quig dropped from his vantage point to run and rejoin his teammates. He tried to ignore the screams from Tommy and Scott - Fundy rendered unable to make a sound as he died. He looked away from the glares that TapL and Solidarity gave him. 

The Red Rabbits topping the leaderboard that round didn’t feel like a victory.

# # #

“Those bastards!” Tommy yelled, his right hand forming a fist and pounding against the glass wall of their base as they waited for the seventh round to start. “It was Quig! He fucking murdered Fundy! _Why aren’t you angry?!”_

“Tommy, you need to breathe.” Scott said firmly, not flinching even as Tommy stared him down. “Take in a deep breath, hold it for a few seconds, let it go. We’ve got three more rounds to get through--”

“They _murdered_ Fundy!”

“I know. We can’t change that.”

“I don’t care who we’re up against next, _someone_ has to pay.”

Scott looked away from the furious teenager for a moment, looking at the line up for their next match. There were only three teams they hadn’t faced yet: the Orange Ocelots; the Aqua Axolotls; and the Pink Parrots. It just so happened that they would be against Aqua, and as Scott looked more closely at his redstone tablet he raised an eyebrow.

None of their names were greyed out.

Calvin, Krinios, Mini and HBomb were all still alive.

“Tommy, you can’t just rush in head first, you need to think.”

“What do you mean? You’re not my father, I don’t need to be told to thi-”

“They’re good fighters. If you run in screaming and angry you’re just going to get yourself killed. Take the crossbow, try and get some cover so HBomb can’t return fire and pick off someone that’s less likely to survive a hit. I can watch your back with the sword.”

While Tommy’s anger didn’t lessen, confusion momentarily flickered onto his face. He didn’t quite understand _why_ Scott was offering to help him, but he didn’t bother to question it. He grabbed the crossbow as instructed, loading the arrow and taking the TNT for good measure. Scott had wordlessly taken his sword and Tommy smiled to himself just a little. The guilt he’d felt for killing CaptainSparklez and SB737 was gone, the guilt that Phil had died protecting him was gone. He would _avenge_ Fundy if it was the last thing he did.

That fire drove Tommy out of the base as soon as the round started and straight towards the trees to his left. He refused to let himself think of Phil dying to save him there, he only let himself see the tactical advantages the trees gave the pair of them. They had cover, the Axolotls wouldn’t be expecting an attack, they would be grouped together - maybe they could take all four of them out in one go: Tommy just needed to land the TNT perfectly for that to happen.

But as seemed to be customary, things never quite went according to plan.

When Tommy threw the TNT, the arc was all wrong. Instead of landing in the middle of the group and exploding immediately it landed a little to the side - drawing their attention in the split second before the explosion happened. It wasn’t enough time for the team to flee, but Calvin and Mini were stood far enough away from the TNT to not be affected by it. With HBomb and Krinios stumbling from the shock and the heat, Tommy fired his crossbow toward Mini and Scott reached for his own bow and arrows to get a shot on Calvin as the two began to close the distance between them. Calvin had the diamond sword, but he was a better fighter than Scott, and he looked _much_ more interested in taking out Tommy than fighting with his equal.

Tommy fired three arrows - missing with two and hitting Mini with one arrow in the side - before he began to reach for his sword. Scott had been just a little quicker to draw his own sword, and that was possibly the only reason that Tommy was still alive beside him. Calvin had rushed them and had jumped as he swung his sword toward Tommy’s head, with Scott managing to block at just the last second. He heard a growl from Calvin, his annoyance clear, and Scott just used their locked swords to push him back with all of his might.

“You don’t get to kill the kid, he’s _mine.”_ Scott hissed in response, his teeth gritted as he pulled his sword away only to begin parrying with Calvin. He was aggressive in his movements, trying to bring their battle as far from Tommy as he could. He was confident that Tommy could handle himself in 1-on-1 combat with Mini - he’d killed CaptainSparklez up close, after all - and so he let himself focus on taking out the threat that was Calvin.

As he continued to push forward he kept an eye on the ground beneath their feet, looking for anything he could do to make the man stumble. But every rock he maneuvered them towards, every hole and burrow they encountered, Calvin seemed to step over it. He was one step ahead of Scott every time, and the grin on his face made it obvious that he knew it.

This was going to turn into a battle of stamina, of who would give out first. Perhaps Calvin was just buying time until HBomb or Krinios joined the fight - it wasn’t a risk that he could take. If he and Tommy were outnumbered, they’d be dead.

The pair were getting closer to the edge of the trees and while that meant the ground underfoot would be easier to navigate, it meant that the river was closer. 

It was now or never.

Scott changed up his attack, his swings coming faster and more unpredictably, forcing Calvin to use more of his energy and focus on blocking the attacks and less on his surroundings. It was enough for Scott to use to his advantage, and it took little more than his foot moving behind Calvin’s at the bank of the river to send him into a fall. The next few moments unfolded quickly, with Calvin’s head cracking loudly against an exposed rock and blood immediately starting to seep out and mix with the water. The splash of his body landing in the river drenched Scott, but he didn’t react to it. Instead, he stepped into the river itself rather than risking his balance on the slippery rocks poking above the water’s surface, and he brought his sword down and into the other’s chest.

He probably would’ve died of his head injuries eventually, maybe he’d have drowned if his head had fallen to the side with the water running over his mouth and nose, but Scott was taking no chances.

A glance over his shoulder as his breathing began to even out again confirmed that Tommy was in a similar position - breathing heavily, covered with blood but with a body at his feet. 

As he heard the familiar sound of the round ending, his eyes turned back to the obsidian frame and he saw HBomb and Krinios standing breathlessly and injured over the centre. The two of them looked afraid, shaken by the explosion with their clothes covered in dark singed spots and dirt, and their faces and hands littered with tiny cuts from the debris that had fallen on them. Scott took a step toward them and they both immediately took several back. Before anything more could happen they were teleported away from the arena, leaving the teams to process what had just happened alone.

# # #

Constantly trying to hold Dream back was nothing short of exhausting. Sapnap had to forget everything: he had to forget about George, about their teammates, about even _trying_ to win, just to hold Dream back. They had screamed at each other, they had fought, and Sapnap felt utterly drained. It didn’t help when Dream looked at the scores from the previous round and announced that it was _impossible_ for the Red Rabbits to have jumped ahead without killing themselves - as if that _justified_ his actions in the slightest. Sapnap was close to giving up in his attempts to stop Dream, knowing that the man was stronger than him, had more stamina than him, and would eventually overpower him anyway. At least if he stopped trying, he wasn’t putting himself at risk of being hurt too. 

He didn’t immediately follow after Dream when he grabbed the diamond sword and left their base for the arena. As he marched toward the obsidian, his fingers tightened around the hilt of the weapon and he eyed the three members of the other team, trying to decide who he should pick off. If he was fighting logically, then his mind would have jumped to either TapL or Quig. Quig was, without a doubt, his biggest competition on their team, but Dream wasn’t thinking about this logically. He wasn’t doing this to win, he wasn’t trying to top the leaderboards anymore, he simply needed vengeance. He needed _blood._

He didn’t even _realise_ he’d attacked until he was already straddling Solidarity’s body, the blade pressed against the man’s throat and drawing blood. Dream had pushed the weapon in with his left hand, cutting up his own palm but he didn’t feel the pain that he should have. Solidarity was struggling beneath him, choking on his own blood and unable to move with Dream weighing down his torso. Perhaps Dream should have cared when Solidarity coughed hard enough that blood splattered on Dream’s face, perhaps he should have cared when the man managed to force out a strangled plea for his life, or perhaps he should have cared when he finally fell still.

But he didn’t. And he didn’t care when he heard Sapnap screaming his name - his friend sounding distant despite being right next to him. 

At least it meant he didn’t care when Sapnap’s fist collided with his face, and everything around him went dark.

# # # 

The final two rounds passed without incident. With Dream unconscious, Sapnap was able to step out of the base in the eighth round without fear of any consequences, he could see Tommy and Scott heading to mid and his stomach plummeted when he realised that meant both Phil and Fundy had met some kind of horrific fate. 

He was just glad he’d spared the kid from being hurt at Dream’s hand.

For the last round, the Ocelots were against the Axolotls, and as Sapnap made his way to place the wool required to win he noticed that HBomb and Krinios were the only two left. He wondered if this had all been planned, if this was deliberate, if something - or someone - was supposed to get every team down to two people.

He wondered if Dream knew about this. Dream was, after all, in L’Manburg two weeks before the rest of them. Sure, he’d _told_ Sapnap that he wanted to see George, but something in the back of Sapnap’s mind told him that Dream had been the one to kill George - that it could have all been a ruse, a set up to put whatever had started into motion… He didn’t _want_ to think it, Dream was his best friend, but with everything that had unfolded over the previous hours he just couldn’t shake the thought that the Dream that stood beside him might not be the same Dream that had flown out to L’Manburg weeks ago.

Rather than remaining at the centre of the arena when he’d claimed victory for his team, he wandered to speak to Krinios and HBomb. In amongst the massacre of Battlebox, having a chance to just sit and _talk_ to someone seemed like a blessing, and with the game finally over those that had survived would soon be able to find solace in each other in the Hub once more. 

He tried not to think about having to look those that had lost a teammate to Dream in the eye, he tried not to think about the guilt on his shoulders. Instead he would seek out who had lived, who had died, and he would hide himself away to mourn those he loved.

  
Sapnap just hoped that he would be given time to breathe before the next game started - he just had to hope that it wasn’t going to be Survival Games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys :)
> 
> how are we all doing? :)
> 
> therapy is available in the comments below :D


	9. An Offer

Returning to the Hub was a relief Tommy feared he’d never feel again. Seeing Tubbo - alive among the quickly thinning crowd of competitors - only served to increase that relief tenfold. He didn’t bother to look at his surroundings, he didn’t care to count how many people  _ had _ made it back alive, all he did was run toward his friend with his arms held wide open and his eyes desperate.

“Tubbo!”

His call attracted Tubbo’s attention immediately, and the man looked away from Technoblade to offer Tommy the same delighted smile, the pair soon coming together in a tight embrace. They stood in silence for a long moment, the grip of their fingers on each other’s blood stained jackets saying everything that they couldn’t, before they finally split to look each other in the eyes.

Their terrified, haunted, guilt ridden eyes.

“Tommy I… I  _ killed  _ people.” Tubbo spoke first, swallowing quietly to keep his voice level while he fought back tears. 

“Yeah…” Tommy whispered. “Me too.” 

There was a beat before Tommy spoke again.

“Who did--”   
  


“Shubble and Eret.” Tubbo replied quickly, his shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted off them. “What about you?”

“Mini, SB and… The Captain.” There was no relief for Tommy when he spoke. He knew how much Tubbo had looked up to the Captain, he knew just how much then man had inspired him, so to know that his death had been at Tommy’s hands… Tommy almost expected Tubbo to hit him, to leave his side, to lash out in anger in  _ some way.  _

He almost wanted him to. It would’ve been so much easier if he did.

“We didn’t know.” Tubbo said instead, pulling Tommy back into their hug. “We couldn’t have known.”

Tommy felt sick at Tubbo’s words, because while that had been true when he’d fought CaptainSparklez and SB737, it  _ wasn’t  _ true when he fought MiniMuka. He  _ knew  _ that fighting Mini meant one of them would die - and he had gone into that battle angry, he had fought with the intention of killing. He wasn’t like Tubbo - an innocent man in an awful situation - he’d killed deliberately.

“We lost Fundy.” Tommy said instead, trying to change the topic of conversation. “Fundy and Phil are dead.”

“Only George died.” Tubbo replied. The phrasing felt wrong in both of their minds.  _ Only.  _ A death was a death, it was devastating regardless of others having  _ more.  _ It was only then that Tommy allowed himself to truly look around at the people that had survived, and only then that he had the chance to take in the distinct lack of lime coloured outfits.

Had an entire team perished?

“Tommy!”

Hearing his name called from across the Hub pulled Tommy out of his thoughts, and out of Tubbo’s embrace. Scott stood off to the side, a little away from the cluster that was beginning to form, and he waved to catch his attention. He forced himself to pull back from Tubbo entirely, though he left his hands on his shoulders for a moment longer.

“Stay safe, Big T.” He instructed, Tubbo nodding as he squeezed tightly before letting go and starting to walk toward his teammate. His boots felt heavier than before - or maybe it was just harder to move his body with the weight of regret pressing down on him. Either way, it felt as if he moved slower than before. As he approached Scott, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, and the older man began to guide Tommy further from the group as they walked together, slowly, and he began to speak.

“Are you alright?”

“We  _ killed  _ people, Scott…” Tommy whispered, trying hard to keep his voice from wavering. “We killed people and the entire world watched us kill them even though we  _ knew  _ they were going to die.”

“No one saw, Tommy.”

“...What?”

“No one saw. The broadcasts ended. No one knows what you did, what I did, what any of us did.”

“What are you talking about?”

Scott looked back over his shoulder, glad to see that no eyes were watching the pair as he continued to lead Tommy away, and he waited until they were completely out of sight to continue.

“Everything’s going according to plan. We’re weeding out the weak, no one important is dying.” Tommy’s eyes were wide and fearful at Scott’s words, his calm tone almost more terrifying than what he said.

_ Almost. _

“We need the best, Tommy. For Manburg to  _ be  _ the best, we can’t use anyone subpar. What do you think this has been about?”

“Who is  _ we?  _ What the fuck is going on?!”   
  


“You can join us, Tommy.” Scott smiled. “Noxite and Schlatt have been planning this for a long time, and anyone that isn’t of use will be left to die. Things have been set in motion, people are scared and angry, the fighting will continue even though teammates aren’t respawning, I’m not needed here anymore. When I die, I’ll respawn away from the games and they’ll take me down from the server. You can join us, stand at our side and live another day. You’ll be safe if you come with us.”

Tommy blinked, his eyes looking at the ground beneath their feet to try and process everything he’d been told. This was all planned, all  _ deliberate,  _ and more was going to happen. He was being offered protection if he agreed to work with them, but how could he accept? Whatever was going on, it stretched beyond the competition.

“I have questions.” Tommy eventually said, looking back to Scott. He tried to read the man’s face but it was utterly impossible - he couldn’t tell if he was surprised, angry, happy, or anything in between. “If I refuse, will you kill me?”

“You won’t refuse.” Scott smiled, the sickeningly sweet grin on his face making Tommy’s stomach churn. “The President saw an awful lot of potential in you, Tommy. This is his request.”

“I don’t understand, his  _ request?”  _ Tommy stammered

“He wants you on his side, Tommy. You’re young, smart, and strong. What kind of Emperor wouldn’t want an heir like you?”

# # # 

Technoblade had fallen into a leadership role easily. He, Dream, and Quig topped the leaderboards, and with Dream unconscious and public enemy number one, and Quig too young to take on responsibility like this, he had immediately taken charge of the situation. 

They’d played two games already that day, nothing would be expected of the contestants until tomorrow, and once he’d instructed Sapnap to restrain Dream while he was still knocked out he’d sent the teams away. People needed time and space to mourn, and it was difficult for him to try and focus on the next move the group could make while people cried around him. It wasn’t that he wasn’t upset about what had happened - he was furious that Phil was gone, his heart was breaking in his chest - he simply didn’t know what crying would do to fix things. It wouldn’t keep him alive, or his team, or the rest of the survivors. It wouldn’t help them figure a way out. Mourning simply wasn’t productive. 

Wilbur had walked off alone to process his own emotions, and Technoblade made no attempt to follow him. He knew the man appreciated to to think things through alone. 

Left alone with Tubbo, Technoblade knew that he couldn’t immediately sit in silence and try to find a solution. As the reality of the situation they were in had become clearer, and the young man had time to consider the actions he had taken (and the blood on his hands), Tubbo had fallen into a quiet state of shock. He was easy to read, the fear in his eyes unmistakable. However hard he’d tried to keep his feelings inside, Technoblade could still see the silent tears falling down his cheeks. 

“You’re safe here.” Technoblade said simply, not entirely sure of the right words to use to offer Tubbo comfort. As much as he was a fierce competitor, he  _ was  _ still a child, and this was a difficult situation for everyone to be in. “Do you… Do you want to talk about it?”

“I  _ killed  _ people. Shubble and Eret a-are dead because…” He blinked, and Technoblade watched in silence as Tubbo brought his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. “Because I blew them up.” A quiet sob escaped his lips and he brought one hand to cover his mouth, his shoulders beginning to shake obviously as he tried to muffle his pain.

“It wasn’t your fault, Tubbo. That’s how the game is played. You didn’t know they wouldn’t come back.”

“But it’s fucked up, isn’t it? I still killed them for points, they still suffered for a game.” He wiped at his eyes roughly, and Technoblade nodded.

“I suppose you’re right, but we all signed up for this.”

“We signed up to come back!” Tubbo sobbed. “I would  _ never  _ have killed them if I knew this was going to happen!”

“They would’ve killed you.” Technoblade replied, his brows furrowing sternly. “How do you think I’d have felt if you were killed under my watch?”

“You don’t seem to give a shit that George is gone, or that you’ve killed Sylvee, or that Phil is-”

“Don’t say I don’t care that they’re dead.” Technoblade snapped, the man quickly biting his tongue before he lashed out any further at Tubbo. He was a kid, he was grieving openly, and Technoblade knew to an onlooker that it would look as if he didn’t care. “Phil was my oldest friend, George was a good teammate, Sylvee didn’t deserve to die, but someone has to try and keep everyone else alive.”

Nothing more was said for a moment. Tubbo curled in on himself a little tighter, muffled his cries a little harder, and Technoblade turned away to leave him be. Rather than force Tubbo to leave, he simply tried to think. He knew he only had half the story, that there was something bigger going on outside the server for so many people to have died, and that he wouldn’t get answers to his questions until the games were over and the survivors could return to reality. He hated not knowing something, but his focus now would be better spent on finding a way for the twenty one remaining contestants to survive until the end rather than obsessing over context he wouldn’t be granted.

Perhaps he could speak to Scott - he organised the teams, he might know if something was happening - but he reasoned to himself that if Scott  _ did  _ know what was going on, there was no chance he’d let that information slide. Another option was to talk to Dream, when he eventually came to. He would have to talk to Dream regardless, but it might be worthwhile to ask if he knew anything. 

“I don’t want to die, Techno.” 

He was pulled from his thoughts by the whispers of Tubbo, and he looked back to the young man. He looked more like a child now, a boy that was in much deeper than he’d expected to be. It made sense, he was only sixteen, but the fear in his words managed to tug at as Technoblade’s heartstrings.

“You won’t die, I promise.” He said, moving to sit beside Tubbo. “I won’t let you die. If you just follow my lead, I’ll keep you safe. So long as nothing combat or survival related is chosen, you just need to do as I tell you to stay alive.”

His words seemed to make no impact on the boy, with tears still falling and hands still shaking. He wished that Wilbur hadn’t gone off alone - he’d know  _ much  _ better what to do - but he tried to imagine what suggestion the man would give. 

In lieu of any better ideas, Technoblade wrapped an arm around Tubbo’s shoulder and pulled him closer to his side. He seemed to take that as an invitation to cry louder, but Technoblade made no attempt to correct him. If he needed to cry, he would let him cry. It wasn’t like he was going to get anything done otherwise. 

“Whatever it takes, Tubbo, I won’t let you die. You didn’t ask for any of this, you haven’t caused any of this. I’ll give my life for you if I have to. You have my word.”

# # #

Sapnap hadn’t left Dream’s side since he’d been tied up. He had seen the looks that others had given him when he’d remained by the unconscious man’s side - he knew just how suspicious that made him look, especially when he had his own concerns about Dream’s behaviour - but he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Dream was still his best friend, like a brother to him, and he needed answers. If Dream was in on this he needed to know why - had someone threatened him? Was he being forced? Or had the years they’d shared together all been a lie? Who was the real Dream? 

He lowered his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes. He didn’t know anything anymore.

Sapnap had no idea how long he was alone in the Hub’s canteen. At some point he’d been joined by Technoblade, who just stood with his arms folded and kept his eyes on Dream.

“What do we do now?” Sapnap eventually asked - unsure if minutes or hours had passed. 

_ “I  _ will talk to him, you’ll go somewhere else. Take a walk, clear your mind, try to process what’s happened.”

“He killed six people.” Sapnap said flatly. “Even after we figured out what was going on, after he killed G-” He shook his head and swallowed. No, he wouldn’t say that. He still hadn’t accepted that it had even  _ happened.  _ “I think he’s responsible for this.”

“What do you mean?” Technoblade asked, Sapnap intriguing him enough for his attention to be directed entirely on him.

“I mean he flew out to L’Manburg two weeks earlier than the rest of us. He said it was to see George but he did  _ that  _ to George and now I’m wondering if he ever even dated George! What if this has just been a huge elaborate scheme? What if he’s been planning with Noxite or the Noxcrew or  _ someone  _ for years, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and he just used visiting George as a cover story to spend two weeks before the Championships when no one else was around so he could start his sabotages?”

“Hm.” Technoblade looked back to Dream, pondering Sapnap’s response for a moment. “I’ll ask him about it.”

“You think he’ll tell you?” Sapnap scoffed, and Technoblade just offered him a shrug.

“It doesn’t really matter. Maybe he’ll regret it and tell me, maybe he’ll gloat and tell me. My job right now is to keep people alive, and whether or not he’s responsible for this and truthful about any role he’s played makes no difference to my job.”

There was a longer silence this time, with Sapnap still remaining sat on the floor and Technoblade still looking at Dream where he was tied up - his wrists bound behind him with the orange fabric of his cape. In the end, it was Dream that broke that silence, a quiet grunt as he began to wake up indicating that it was no longer time to watch passively.

“Go.” Technoblade said, and Sapnap didn’t ask twice. He slunk out of the canteen and left the two men alone in the room, hoping that Technoblade would finish with whatever interrogation he had planned before the survivors started thinking of eating.

He didn’t say anything at first. He watched intently as Dream groaned and moved his head to one side, his eyes slowly started to open. 

_ “Fuck--”  _ Was the only word that came from Dream for a moment, his voice weak. Technoblade busied himself to pour a glass of water, listening to the gradual realisation of Dream. “Where am I? I can’t move…”

“Sapnap knocked you out.” Technoblade told him. “When Battlebox ended and we came back to the Hub, you were tied up. Do you know why?”

He walked slowly back into Dream’s field of vision. His eyes seemed to follow Technoblade without any issue, and he held his head well. With no immediate signs of a concussion, he lifted the glass of water to Dream’s lips and tipped it back a little to encourage him to drink. He wanted answers, but he wasn’t a monster. When Dream finished gulping down what he could, the man began to speak.

“I killed George. I killed him, stabbed him in the stomach, watched as the light left his eyes and he died in my arms.” Technoblade had turned to place to glass down, and thought he was hallucinating when he heard Dream giggle. He wasn’t. The restrained man was  _ laughing,  _ giggling like a madman, and Technoblade raised an eyebrow to silently ask him to elaborate.

“I’d already killed SmallishBeans and then I killed George! And he didn’t come back! He just died! He was gone!” Dream grinned. “I killed False and Krtzyy, I wiped out their team, I killed Zeuz and Solidarity, none of them came back either!”

“You seem awfully happy about that…”

“What does it matter? We’re all going to die here, aren’t we? The audience will pick Survival Games and the last man standing will be crowned the victor! None of this matters anymore!”

As Dream continued to laugh to himself, Technoblade observed. While he was laughing and smiling, the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was a front - and a shabby one at best - one that didn’t even appear to be convincing himself. Technoblade found himself immediately doubting Sapnap’s theory - if Dream had expected this to happen he’d have controlled himself, he wouldn’t be descending into madness like this, unless the guilt of agreeing really  _ was  _ eating him alive.

“Do you know why people are dying, Dream?” 

“Because I’m stabbing them? Or shooting them with arrows?” Dream’s smile widened a little further. “Maybe I’ll blow people up next.”

_ Next.  _ Next wasn’t good. Next implied that whatever had happened, Dream was still very much a threat to the group of survivors. 

“People are going to want you dead, Dream. You’ve killed a lot of people, a lot of friends.”

“Let them try, I’m stronger than all of them.” 

“You’re tied up. I could slit your throat right now and there’d be nothing you could do about it.”

“So do it.” Dream said, his eyes widening just a little. “I  _ dare  _ you.” He hissed, and Technoblade frowned. If Sapnap was right, if Dream  _ was  _ in on whatever scheme was going on, then killing him would be utterly worthless. He’d be the one person to respawn if he was part of their plan, and that would put the rest of them at a disadvantage. He’d be unrestrained, dangerous, and unpredictable. It didn’t stop Technoblade from walking back into the kitchenette to pick up the sharpest knife he could find before returning to kneel down before Dream. Dream had no idea what was going through his mind, Dream wouldn’t know if he’d dare to kill him or not, he could use that intimidation to his advantage.

He pressed the tip of the blade against the bottom of Dream’s chin, sharp metal pushing against soft, pale skin, and he smirked.

“Maybe I will.” Technoblade adjusted his tone, making his voice softer as he spoke. “You know exactly what I’m capable of. You’ve seen how I fight, you’ve died and respawned at my blade more times than either of us can count. You know if I wanted to, I could gut you before you even had the chance to bleed out.”

Dream smirked at the words, leaning forward ever so slightly and pushing his head down just a little - enough for the blade pressed against his chin to make the tiniest of incisions. 

“So do it.” He whispered. “Let me choke on my own blood. We both know you want to do it.”

Technoblade growled, holding Dream’s gaze. Neither man blinked, neither moved, they simply stared each other down. The air around them was tense, any sound could have shattered the atmosphere like glass.

_ “Do it.”  _

Dream’s tongue poked out to wet his lips ever so slightly, before he chuckled.

“You don’t have the guts to kill me.”

“I have more than enough guts to kill you.” Technoblade spat his words through gritted teeth, his hold on the knife tightening. “But I’m not like you. The monster the world sees me as, that’s you. You’ve killed  _ heartlessly,  _ I won’t give you the satisfaction of another life lost.”

Technoblade pushed the blade a little deeper into Dream’s chin. As droplets of blood began to run down the metal, pooling against his fist, Technoblade pulled the knife away from the man swiftly. He threw it across the canteen, letting it clatter against the floor before he straightened his back and took a step further from Dream.

“You won’t touch another soul. I won’t be as merciful next time.”

# # #

“D’you want the good news first, or the  _ slightly  _ good news?” 

Scott’s voice rang out in the meeting room that Schlatt and Noxite sat in. The room was made for a dozen people sitting around one long table, and with just the two of them it felt much bigger than it was. The echo of the slightly distorted voice playing out over the sound system didn’t help. 

“Let’s start with the  _ slightly  _ good news, we’ll work up to the celebrations!” Schlatt smiled. Despite his suggestion to wait, he still reached for the glasses placed in the middle of the table and took his flask from his pocket, pouring out a dark liquid into the tumbler and chuckling to himself quietly as he brought it to his lips.

“Alright then. Slightly good news, Tommy didn’t say no. I think he’s still a little shaken up by it all, he’ll come to his senses eventually.”

“Well what did you say to him?!” Schlatt demanded, raising his voice just enough to make his frustrations clear. “I want that fucking kid at my side.”

“I understand, sir, but this  _ is  _ his first time murdering people. Give him some time to warm up to it.” Scott replied hurriedly. “I explained what we’ll be doing: he knows about Manburg, that you will be the Emperor when we return, that he will be your heir. He understands that when he agrees, he’ll be protected, and if he dies he  _ will  _ respawn.”

“You tell him the code?”

“He knows the code: let the festivities of Manburg begin.”

“Good,  _ excellent.”  _ Schlatt exhaled, taking another drink from his glass.

“The competitors? We’ve registered nineteen deaths so far on our end.” Noxite said, clasping his hands together and leaning closer to the microphone picking up their voices. 

“That’s right, we’ve still got twenty one, unless someone’s taken Dream out. He killed a  _ lot  _ of those nineteen, people aren’t happy with him.”

“Shame, I said I’d make Punz my General if Dream won.” Schlatt said. “Guess it doesn’t matter now, I already had the last one shot. Kept going on about respecting the constitution, honestly it pissed me off. How hard is it to listen to your President? Your  _ Emperor?”  _

“If the broadcasts are down, what game are you picking for the public vote?” Scott asked, clearly trying to ask something Schlatt would be a little less outraged by. 

“We were thinking something  _ shitty  _ and  _ boring.  _ We can rig the votes if people aren’t dying near the end, but if the public are supposed to be voting for this game they’d probably go for something they won’t all die during.” Schlatt explained.

“Hole In The Wall seems like a good middle ground to us.” Noxite added. “It isn’t something you’d immediately think of as dangerous, there’s no combat involved, but it should be fairly effective at taking out a few more of the contestants.”

“The void, excellent, can’t wait to die to that.” Scott grimaced, though his face couldn’t be seen by either man in the room. “I’ll let Tommy know, give him a chance to prepare for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Scott. We’ll see you soon.” Noxite said, watching Schlatt gulp down more of whatever he was drinking, before he leaned forward to press a button to end the call.

“So…” Noxite started. “What are you thinking, your Imperial Majesty?”

Schlatt placed the glass he held onto the table and smiled at his title. He spent a moment in thought, bringing a hand to run through his hair. 

“I think, now that I’m Emperor of Manburg, I’m gonna need something better to wear than this crappy old suit.”

# # #

The Decision Dome was deathly silent the next morning. Most teams hadn’t breathed a word to each other, they certainly hadn’t spoken to those outside of their teams, and no one had even dared to look toward the Orange Ocelots. The fact that Dream was still alive was a disappointment to many, but no one spoke up against Technoblade’s judgement. For now, their minds were focused on one thing and one thing alone: what had the world chosen for them to face? Had they shown mercy and picked a game without death, or were they going to be fighting to the end in Skyblockle? 

Tubbo allowed himself a glance to the right to look out of the Green Guardians’ pod, catching Tommy’s eye and offering him a curt wave. Normally, the two would have said  _ something  _ to each other in the morning, and Tubbo had almost expected more to have been said given the fear they must have both been feeling, but Tommy had deliberately avoided him. He reasoned with himself that Tommy might just be reacting to everything differently, and that with time things would go back to normal. 

At least, as close to normal as they could be.

He turned his focus to the screens in the pod once more, taking in a breath and closing his eyes for a brief moment. He felt one of Wilbur’s hands on his shoulders and was grateful for that contact as Technoblade announced what appeared before him.

“Hole in the Wall.” He muttered, Tubbo opening his eyes just in time to watch him turn to face them. 

“That’s okay, that’s just parkour.” Wilbur strained his voice to sound optimistic, but even Tubbo knew better than to trust the crack in his tone. 

“Just follow my lead.” Technoblade replied. “We’re all going to make it through this together.”

As they were transported from the Decision Dome, Tubbo tried to keep himself calm. He tried to focus on Technoblade’s instructions - his promise that they would all make it to the end, that he would sacrifice himself to save him - but it was difficult. Every thought was drowned out by the images he’d seen during broadcasts of the Championships in years gone by: with dozens of people being taken out in each round by the walls, the ever increasing speed of which they approached and the shrinking platform. Technoblade tried to reassure the team, but Tubbo knew only one thing was certain: they  _ weren’t  _ all making it out alive.

They were taken to the waiting room above the map, giving the contestants an overview of the layout beneath them and a moment to prepare whilst the rules of the game were sent to their redstone tablets. They had nothing in their inventories this time. If they fell there was no axe for them to lodge in the wall, there was nothing for them to grab hold of. If they fell, they would fall into the void. There wouldn’t even be a body. 

There was a strange sense of determination amongst the survivors. It wasn’t the same as before, when people had simply wanted to  _ win,  _ now it was about survival, and by some mercy even Dream seemed calmer than he had done before. Without a weapon it would be harder for him to take someone out without taking himself out too - and that alone felt like a cause for relief. 

“Quig, HBomb, fWhip.” Technoblade spoke up, and much like the rest of the contestants Tubbo looked toward him immediately. “Each cover a direction. I’m going to take North, Quig take East, HBomb you take South, and fWhip that leaves you with West. If the wall is coming your way, shout. Everyone else, stay quiet. Listen for the callouts. Do as you’re told and we can do this without any more casualties.”

Whether his words were true or not, Tubbo saw people nod along, and that made him feel an awful lot more comfortable. 

Before any more time passed, the group of twenty one were teleported down to the arena and the four men took up their positions, facing their directions, with the rest of the contestants standing behind them. Tubbo stood directly behind Technoblade, his heart beating faster than it had before, drumming away in his ears as if it were about to deafen him. His throat felt dry and constricted, and he struggled to swallow. He was panicking, he  _ knew  _ he was panicking, but he couldn’t panic. If he lost his focus now, he’d be dead. Simple as.

Three.

Two.

One.

Horns blared through their earpieces and the sounds of pistons at work began to echo around the small arena. 

“West!” fWhip shouted immediately, and Tubbo snapped his head to the left. The wall was simple, there were plenty of places to duck or jump, and he barely had to move to be in line with the first gap. He still held his breath, fists clenched at his sides as blocks moved around him, and he remained that way until the noise started to move away from him. 

“West again!” Came another shout, the next walls of a similar level of difficulty. Everything moved so slowly, but it was easy to think that things were going to be alright - that everything would go according to plan. Even when the direction changed, and HBomb made the first call of the South wall approaching, there was room for everyone to squeeze through.

It was only when the wall speed began to increase that the danger was brought back into the forefront of everyone’s minds. 

“East!” Quig yelled, and as Tubbo looked to the wall approaching his eyes widened a little. There was nowhere to just  _ duck  _ through this time, it had to be a jump, and jumping always meant there was more room for error. He ran to the left of the platform, trying to use his smaller stature to his advantage to wiggle through the crowd, giving him the best possible vision of the incoming wall that he could have. It was only a one block jump where he stood, but the platform was crowded and not everyone was as lucky as him. 

He jumped, he landed with ease, and he made his way back to where he had originally stood to wait for the next wall to appear. Tubbo could hear the commotion behind him, he knew what it meant, but he closed his eyes to ignore it. He heard a scream, heard cries for help, and felt nausea rising in his stomach. Someone was falling, someone was dying,  _ there was nothing he could do.  _

“North!” Technoblade’s voice cut through the panic and as quickly as it had begun, people were forced once more to pay attention to their surroundings. Tubbo was one of the first over the wall and had a moment to turn around and check to see who’d fallen. James - one of the Blue Bats - and that made sense. In any other situation, he might have criticised himself for treating someone’s death as something that seemed inevitable, but logic felt like the only response that would help him get through this. If he mourned now, if he felt  _ any  _ emotions, then he would be next.

There were two walls approaching next - from the North and the East - and by the time it became obvious that the East wall was real it was too late for some. Those that had hedged their bets on the North wall were swept away. Some managed to recover, but the sounds of screams and points being awarded to the survivors were a reminder that it wasn’t the case for everyone. 

Pearl and Ren had fallen, and Tubbo tried not to let his heart speed up any more. The walls around them did, however, and that wasn’t helping him remain calm.

The next wall had no gaps, and two block jumps, and as it raced toward the crowd Tubbo felt his stomach sink and his heart in his throat. He knew,  _ logically,  _ he could make it, but seeing it move toward him unrelentingly? His feet felt as if they were full of lead, he couldn’t jump, he  _ couldn’t  _ make it…

Technoblade had grabbed his hand, he was being pulled, people were shouting at him to jump and rather than think about the wall about to hit him, he followed their instructions. If he stopped thinking and did as he was told, he’d be okay - right? 

His body moved higher than he’d expected it to, thanks mostly to Technoblade landing on top of the wall and pulling him up while it moved. The movement of the wall left Tubbo feeling almost sea sick, but the sensation was enough to begin pulling him from his own mind. As terrifying as the wall had been, watching the platform below move was worse. Technoblade still held his hand as he jumped down and pulled Tubbo with him, and landing back on solid, unmoving ground was enough for the young man to take in a deep breath.

“You okay?” Technoblade asked, and Tubbo nodded his head, offering up a shaky smile with watery eyes.

“Yeah. Thanks for saving me.”

“South!” HBomb called. Tubbo could move independently this time, the wall significantly less intimidating, though he found himself stood beside Dream. As the wall approached, he allowed himself one brief glance to the man at his side, curious more than anything else. Dream was focused entirely on the wall approaching and paid him no attention, his brows furrowed and eyes and lips both narrow. He  _ looked  _ like Dream, but Tubbo knew that he was a murderer: the fact that he didn’t have a bloody sword in his hand didn’t change that. 

Tubbo leaped over fences in the middle of the wall, careful when he landed not to fall into the centre. He wasn’t the only one that had to be cautious upon landing, and while he’d kept his balance he saw Scott land a few paces away, only half on the platform, and begin to wobble. 

_ He couldn’t do anything,  _ he reminded himself for a second time that if he acted, he would only put himself at risk, and that reminder became all the more real when he saw Seapeekay rush to grab Scott’s hand. In the heat of the moment, it was difficult to see what had happened, but whatever it was, Scott seemed to come out on top. Their bodies moved together for a moment, Scott moving further onto the platform and Seapeekay moving closer to the edge. Tubbo couldn’t tell if their legs got tangled together, if someone pushed the other, but he watched Seapeekay fall and Scott stumble backward onto the platform, and Seapeekay’s scream marked the end of the Purple Pandas.

With two teams entirely knocked out and the walls moving in faster and faster, the shouts of directions became much louder and much more frequent. They were never all going to make it to the end of Hole in the Wall, but there seemed to be resolve among the survivors to work together to help as many people as possible make the last few jumps of the round.

Vixella and InTheLittleWood both fell victim to the game before the horns sounded to mark the end of the first round, and those that had made it through were teleported back to the waiting room while the server reset the course. They were fifteen now: some children, some wounded, some terrified. Fifteen of forty with another two rounds of Hole in the Wall to go - and three more games after that - the odds of surviving to the end seemed impossibly small. Tubbo allowed himself a glance toward Tommy, who looked away the moment they locked eyes, and he felt his chest ache. He felt so completely alone, even with Wilbur wrapping an arm around his shoulder. 

He had an awful feeling that he wasn’t going to make it out alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the slightly unexpected week off, i was feeling burnt out & i'm starting a new job in a few days so i let myself have a little break! hopefully there's enough in this chapter to make up for it! if you've got any theories, questions, or just need to yell at me, feel free to comment below! & if you don't consider leaving a kudos, always makes me smile to know people are enjoying my fics! thanks for reading, see you next time :D


	10. A Close Call

Ant slumped into Niki’s sofa and exhaled, attracting the attention of the man beside him. Velvet looked up from his sculkpad and placed the device down on the small table before them.

“Any luck?”

Velvet shook his head.

“I don’t understand what’s going on - you’d think we’d hear  _ something,  _ right? I get that if someone’s attacking our infrastructure it’d be difficult to get a message out, but surely they’d try?”

“I don’t know.” Ant said quietly. “Every time Niki wakes up she’s talking about the President, I’m worried about her.”

The two fell into silence after that. There was little more they could do than continue to care for their friend. Overnight, whoever had taken down their social media access seemed to have disabled the rest of the Internet for the citizens of L’Manburg, and without being able to research what to do for someone with a head injury they could only hope they were doing what was right for Niki. Neither man knew if they were even allowed to go outside to seek medical attention if she needed it.

But Niki was strong - a head injury wouldn’t be enough to take her out even if the worst were to happen. And they were there for her - as soon as the announcement had been made by the President that everyone was to remain inside, they had known the only place for them was with Niki. 

Normally, the three would find silence comfortable. They’d grown up together, the three had been friends for most of their lives, but with Niki out of the equation things were different. The atmosphere had shifted, the silence carrying a tension that didn’t seem to have existed before. Perhaps it had, but Niki’s presence and constant radiation of joy had been enough to keep it hidden. Perhaps it had been brought on by the nerves they both felt regarding the world around them: the worries of digital attacks becoming physical, the possibility of war - there were so many things that could happen if someone in power made one wrong move. And they would never know what was happening on the inside.

“Velvet--”

“Ant--”

They spoke at the same time, voices overlapping, and both let out a strained laugh. They faced each other with forced smiles, both trying to make an effort to make the tension disappear, and waited for the other to start speaking.

“You go--”

“Go on--”

Again, they found their words jumbling, and their laughter was easier this time. Rather than risk talking over each other a third time, Velvet just gestured towards Ant, who’s smile brightened a little more.

“D’you ever miss being a kid?”

“Sometimes.” Velvet shrugged. “There’s some good things about being old.”

“I guess.” Ant said, leaning back a little further into the worn cushions and smiling to himself. “Do you remember when we all ran out east for a week? We all told our parents we were on a school trip, filled out bags with snacks, and built a treehouse near the mountains.”

“I remember.” Velvet laughed. “This is why I like being an adult. My parents grounded me for a month.”

“You snuck out every night, you can’t complain.”

As they chuckled, Velvet moved an inch closer to Ant. He stretched his arms above his head and rested both on the back of the couch behind him - the fingers of his left hand nearly brushing Ant’s shoulders.

“Do you remember when you had a crush on--”   
  


“Stop right there!” Ant exclaimed, turning his body to face Velvet and shift an inch closer to him. “We do not talk about the dark times, we made this rule. You say his name, I’ll bring  _ it  _ up.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would.” Ant smirked, raising his eyebrows as if to say  _ try me,  _ but Velvet seemed to know better than to risk it. Still, a smile remained on his face, and then the tension came back.

Ant felt his stomach churning at his proximity to Velvet. They were alone, everything seemed so natural, it would be so easy to just… Just  _ lean in  _ and take what he wanted. His eyes flickered down to Velvet’s lips in time to see his tongue protrude just a little, darting out to wet them before disappearing again, and he held his breath. Could he do it? They’d been friends since they were children - if he was reading the signs wrong he’d lose the person that meant the most to him in the world. 

“Ant--” Velvet whispered, and Ant forced himself to look back at his eyes. 

“Is it worth the risk?” He asked quietly, leaning his body a little closer to Velvet’s.

The answer to his question came in the form of Velvet’s eyes fluttering shut, his lips puckering, and his body leaning forward. Ant took in one last breath before he closed his eyes and--

_ Knock knock knock-- _

The two jumped apart before they’d even met, faces blushing red and eyes avoiding the others. The knocking on the door to the bakery was relentless, and without a second thought Ant got to his feet and ran as quickly as he could downstairs. WIth a Presidential mandate to stay inside, there should be no one at the door, which meant one of two things.

One, the military were trying to gain access, for some reason. Two, someone had snuck out, and needed to hide before they were caught.

Ant wasn’t sure which was worse.

“Coming!” He yelled, the knocking growing louder and louder with every second that passed. “I’m coming!” 

Aware of Velvet’s footsteps close behind, he grabbed the key on the bakery’s counter and ran to unlock the door as quickly as possible. If someone needed to hide, it would mean they were safe sooner. If it was the military, then they would be appeased sooner. As soon as he’d turned the key, the door burst open, and Skeppy crossed the threshold. He held Bad’s hand tightly and pulled him in after him, Ant stumbling back as Skeppy closed the door in a hurry, and the two men began to catch their breath. They’d been running,  _ clearly,  _ and with Ant reaching out to grab a beam and stop himself from falling over, Velvet spoke.

“What the hell is going on?!”

“I don’t know.” Bad panted, Ant looking between the new arrivals. “When we woke up this morning we went to get breakfast but the hotel was full of military personnel.”

“Anyone that isn’t a L’Manburg national has to leave.” Skeppy finished.

No one spoke for a moment. Skeppy and Bad caught their breath, and Ant and Velvet had to try to figure out what that meant. Was conflict on the horizon? Were other countries pressuring the President into allowing people to return to their home countries before a full blown war broke out?

“Come upstairs.” Ant said eventually, nodding his head toward the door behind the counter. “We need to talk to Niki.”

# # #

Guilt sat squarely on Technoblade’s shoulders as the countdown to the second round of Hole in the Wall began. His mind was clouded with the emotion, the screams of the last six to die echoing in his head, and if he hadn’t been clenching and unclenching his hands into fists he was almost certain that his hands would have been trembling clearly enough for anyone around to see. But he was their leader now, they expected him to save them, he needed to show that he was calm. 

“Techno, you’ve got this.”

Wilbur’s voice somehow managed to overpower the screams, his gentle whisper so much louder than everything else in his head, and he turned to offer the man a slight smile. He was glad to have him by his side, he wasn’t sure what he’d do without him. 

The countdown ended and the round began in much the same way it had before. Technoblade, Quig, HBomb and fWhip each stood facing their individual directions, calling out when a wall was approaching, and the rest of the group would run into place to find a position from which to make it through. As horrific as it had been to lose so many more of their friends, Technoblade couldn’t help but think about how much easier it was to move now there were only fifteen of them.

It was selfish as all hell, but it meant that those still alive had a better chance of remaining that way.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go that well for long.

A wall had approached from the west faster than the survivors were expecting. By the time fWhip had managed to call it out, it was too late for three.

Scott didn’t stand a chance, he’d been facing east and standing closest to the approaching wall in the centre - he was pushed off without having a chance to see his fate coming, and unable to twist his body around fast enough to grab hold of the ledge. Technoblade didn’t even hear the man scream. 

He did, however, hear Wilbur’s and Tubbo’s.

Technoblade moved immediately, an arm blindly outstretched in the hopes of grabbing the hands of one of his teammates. Before he’d even jerked his head around to see what was happening, he felt skin against his fingers, and he held on as tightly as he could, trying to calculate a way to save both men. 

Time seemed to slow down as he figured things out.

For one, he was in luck. Wilbur and Tubbo had fallen from the opposite side of the middle gap. The wall was only half way across, and with where he had dropped to the ground he was perfectly positioned to duck through a hole.  _ Small mercies,  _ he thought.

Secondly, the hand that he held was Tubbo’s. He could see the young boy’s lips moving, and he assumed that screams and shouts accompanied the motion. He was dangling over the void, of  _ course  _ he’d be screaming, but Technoblade couldn’t hear a sound. Across the other side of the gap, Wilbur had grabbed onto the edge with the tips of his fingers. He didn’t have much grip, Technoblade could see him struggling, but the moment the wall moved past him he would be able to pull Tubbo to safety and grab Wilbur. It would only be a couple of seconds, but it felt like a lifetime passed. 

The third thing Technoblade noticed was Dream landing.

He’d jumped over the middle - a reckless move even when respawning  _ was  _ possible - and he was about to land.

He was about to land on Wilbur’s fingers.

The wall began to move over Technoblade’s body at that moment, his grip tightening on Tubbo’s hand as he watched the scene unfold. There was nothing more he could do, no way he could save his friend, he was completely and utterly powerless. Technoblade  _ hated  _ being powerless. 

Wilbur, thank  _ fuck,  _ was concentrated entirely on the void below. He didn’t have to see his fate coming, didn’t have to watch Dream’s boots falling closer and closer with every passing second. Wilbur turned his head to Technoblade - and he realised he must have been shouting. In fact, if he could see himself, he would realise he was not only shouting but crying. Tears streamed down his face, Wilbur’s name ripped itself from his throat until he was utterly hoarse. 

He hadn’t heard a thing since the two had fallen, but he was certain he heard the cracking of bones when Dream landed.

There was a chance he could live, and Technoblade knew that. So long as Dream’s feet were on Wilbur’s fingers, he was trapped, he couldn’t fall. It was the act of stepping off that would condemn him. There was a chance, however small, that Dream would crouch down to grab Wilbur’s wrist and hoist him up rather than step away.

He didn’t.

The wall finished passing over Technoblade’s body and he forced himself to focus on pulling Tubbo back to safety. If he could focus on Tubbo, then it was a little easier to ignore the ringing in his ears. It was easier to ignore the fact that he could hear again, easier to forget about his name being shouted, fading away as the source of the sound fell further into the void. It was easier to block out the sound of Dream’s laughter.

“Are you okay?”

Technoblade blinked. Tubbo had been dangling over the void seconds ago, he should be  _ terrified,  _ but here he was asking how  _ he  _ was doing.

“Fine.” Technoblade replied. It was a downright lie, and anyone that looked his way would figure that out, but it didn’t matter. Right now, he needed to focus on the situation at hand rather than the turmoil of emotions inside of him. Those emotions wouldn’t keep anyone alive, and even if he couldn’t save them all he owed it to them to  _ try.  _

“South!” HBomb yelled, and just like that Technoblade switched his emotions off. He steeled his face, returned to where he stood to keep watch for any walls approaching from the north whilst positioning himself to make the jump. 

The drama of losing two - nearly three - contestants in one go had everyone a little more on edge than before, and while that could help keep people safe it also made it easier to make a mistake.

TapL made a mistake. He didn’t jump high enough to clear one of the final walls, his feet getting caught in the fence posts and pulling him away from the platform. By the time he was free, he’d been moved too far away from the platform to make the jump back.

Rather than wait for the wall he was on to disappear, he closed his eyes and jumped. Technoblade saw him fall, and his stomach twisted into knots.  _ Another one gone.  _

The only thing that felt more heartbreaking than losing more of their friends was losing another friend at the final wall. The second round was almost over, the final wall was approaching quickly, and people crowded at the furthest point away from the wall on the platform to give them as much time as possible to find a way through or over. 

It was no one’s fault that Michael had been nearest to the edge, it was just bad luck that he only had one shot to make the jump and he didn’t take the opportunity in time. At least no more walls came, at least Michael got to die with everyone calling his name. His death wasn’t overlooked in favour of survival.

Technoblade found that his reputation kept people from asking about the stains of tears on his cheeks, something he was impossibly thankful for. The only person that dared to approach him was Tubbo, and he was certain the young man only came to him because they were teammates, because he had almost died, because he needed comfort. He was just a kid, and if Technoblade felt so awful when looking at everything going on, how was Tubbo going to fare any better than him?

“Tech--”   
  


“I’ll keep you safe, Tubbo.” Technoblade said, his shoulders falling. In the back of his mind, insecurities began to eat away at him: how could he keep Tubbo safe if he’d already failed ten people? If he’d failed Wilbur and Phil? “Whatever it takes, I’ll keep you safe.”

The promise became a low growl as a hand moved to Tubbo’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. It was enough to hurt, he could  _ see  _ the slight wince that flickered across Tubbo’s features, only to hide itself away as he seemed to catch his own reaction.

“As long as I’m here, you’ll be safe.”

Hadn’t he made that promise just minutes ago to Wilbur?

It didn’t matter. Whatever happened, he would  _ keep  _ this promise. He would protect Tubbo, no matter what that meant for his own life. If he could keep one person alive - just  _ one person -  _ it would be this young man, this boy. He was talented, he was strong, he was determined and he was brave, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve the amount of trauma he would walk away from this with. 

He would keep Tubbo safe.

The third and final round began.

The shouts from HBomb, Quig, and fWhip were still loud and strong, and that gave Technoblade a boost of confidence that even if he hadn’t protected them all, he’d found a system that had worked to keep most people alive. It helped a little with drowning out the voice in the back of his head, but not enough for him to leave Tubbo’s side. Knowing that the man was within arm’s reach no matter what happened helped, too. This seemed to be Tubbo’s weakest game, and if he had to catch him a third time then he was more than happy to do so.

Despite the horrors of his fall the previous round, Tubbo seemed to have picked himself back up remarkably quickly. He wasn’t nervous, he almost seemed overeager for some jumps, and Technoblade found himself holding the boy back rather than dragging him with him.

Things were going well for the pair, things were going well for everyone. The walls were speeding up, but people managed to avoid getting caught, no one was falling off, it almost seemed like they were going to make it.

They  _ did  _ make it.

The game ended, no one was dead, and the eleven survivors spent a moment standing around on the platform looking at each other. They’d done it, they’d survived, and they could pick their own fate from now on. They could pick games that wouldn’t kill them, games that would let them live to see another day, live to leave the server and return to reality to see what had happened to kill their fellow competitors permanently.

A few dared to smile at each other, and Technoblade heard Tubbo let out a breathless laugh. They’d made it, no one had fallen victims to the wall, they were going to be okay! 

“Get your hands off me!” 

_ Oh.  _ They’d come to that conclusion too soon.

Heads snapped around to look at the commotion on the south side of the platform, where HBomb was trying desperately to put himself between Dream and Pete. He should’ve known it was too good to be true, that everyone surviving a round couldn’t last. He shouldn’t have let himself hope, shouldn’t have believed things would be alright…

“How does it feel to die, Pete?” 

“Stop, Dream, stop this!” HBomb yelled. “He’s done nothing, let him go.”

Technoblade watched as Dream shifted a little, dragging Pete with him closer to the edge. The man smirked and did as he was told, lifting a leg to kick him and finish the job. 

Pete fell, unsurprisingly, and Dream smiled. 

“Who’s next?” 

That was a threat. Technoblade could hear it was a threat, though it was obvious to everyone at this point that it was a threat. He took a step forward, pushing Tubbo behind him ever so slightly. 

“Are you next?” Dream looked to Technoblade, with nothing less than pure, unadulterated joy in his eyes: he’d gone utterly mad in his grief. But before Technoblade had a chance to speak up - to try and intimidate Dream in return - someone else did.

“What the fuck would George think if he saw you now, Dream?”

He possibly should have expected Sapnap to say something. He was, of the survivors, the closest to the man in question. Perhaps if he was willing to listen to anyone it would be him.

“He can’t say anything, he’s dead!”

“I know you loved him, but he wouldn’t want you murdering to avenge him!  _ You  _ killed him, after all! What did these people do?!”

There was a silence that stretched out for more than a moment, with the eight other survivors watching the confrontations between friends. They each held their breath, and Technoblade prepared himself to step forward if Dream tried to kill again. This time, though, they were saved by the server. The game had ended, the scores were tallied, and teams were teleported back to their pods. 

Technoblade exhaled and let his head droop, his hands coming to rub at his face. 

Things weren’t going to get any easier while  _ he  _ was still here.

# # #

The pod was eerily quiet. Phil, Fundy, and Scott were dead. Tommy was alone. He was alone in a silent pod, and yet his mind wouldn’t stop screaming at him.

Scott had left him with an awful choice, and he was alone in making it. Turn against the other competitors - against his  _ friends  _ \- in return for protection. When the Games were over, he would be the heir to Manburg, he would be in no danger regardless of what had happened in the world since he had been uploaded. If he refused, he would meet the same fate as them all…

He lowered his body to the ground, leaning back against one of the walls and wrapping his arms around his legs to try and comfort himself. Out of the window opposite he could see Tubbo, still more or less composed, with Technoblade’s hands on his shoulders speaking at speed. Tubbo, his best friend, could he do something like this? Betray Tubbo? They were on different teams, but it was  _ them  _ against the world and when this was all over it still would be. Except, if he sided with Tubbo, he didn’t think there would be an after for them. If Schlatt had enough control over the country to turn himself into an Emperor in a matter of days, if he had enough of an alliance with Noxite to keep competitors that died,  _ dead,  _ and if he had a plan to use the survivors of the Games for his own gains… Then it didn’t matter. There would never  _ be  _ a tomorrow for him and Tubbo to be friends in. 

The decision wasn’t about anyone else, it wasn’t about his friends, he was unable to stop the Emperor from doing as he pleased. Scott hadn’t offered him a choice of being a good guy or a bad guy, he hadn’t offered him the choice of saving himself or saving his friends, the choice was painfully clear: life or death. 

A shiver ran down his spine as he got to his feet, taking in a deep breath and reaching toward the console with his finger outstretched to place his vote.

Scott was right. He  _ wouldn’t  _ refuse.

# # # 

No one had removed the old General’s rotting corpse, and Noxite didn’t care to. It wasn’t as though he would be remaining in the control room for long, and it seemed to remind the Noxcrew just who they were working for. It kept them in line. Then again, the presence of the Emperor and General helped too.

“What has he voted for?” Schlatt asked, pointing his finger at the screen showing the Cyan Creeper’s pod. There was a moment of typing to extract the information from the systems, and then one of the members of the team spoke up as bravely as they could.

“Survival Games, your Imperial Majesty.”

Schlatt turned to Noxite with a wicked grin on his face, hand moving to scratch at his chin. For those watching on, those that knew of the horrors he had planned, the giddy laughter was enough to paralyse them with fear.

“Perfect, oh that’s  _ perfect!”  _ He said. “Tommy, oh  _ Tommy,  _ my  _ boy!”  _ He laughed. “If he dies, you bring him home. Everyone else, keep them where they are, but him… He’s special.”

A knock at the door muted Schlatt’s celebrations, and he turned his head to see who had interrupted him. With Noxite and the Noxcrew doing the same, and Punz ready to shoot and protect the Emperor if required, Ponk was quick to salute and soften the tense atmosphere. 

“Can we help you?” Noxite asked, and Ponk nodded.

“Yes sir, Scott has completed his download. He’s asking after you both.”

“That didn’t take long.” Schlatt smiled. “Punz, stay here, keep an eye on things. We’ll go have a little catch up with Scott, he’ll need to be debriefed. Does he need any medical assistance?”

“Nothing serious, sir.” Ponk replied. “We tried to send him for the post server check up, but he insisted on speaking to you both first.”

“Well then, let’s go have a little chat.”

# # # 

The margin with which  _ To Get to the Other Side (and Whack a Fan)  _ was picked to be the next game was  _ much  _ too small for Technoblade’s liking. More than that, two people had voted for Survival Games. One was expected - he had anticipated that with Dream the way he was, he would vote for that - but two? It meant there was someone in the survivors against them, and he had absolutely no idea who it was. Still, there wasn’t much time to think about it as they were teleported to the first map, but he’d keep a close eye on the remaining contestants to try and figure out who could be quietly working against them.

Of the remaining games to be picked, this was one of the safest options. People would be able to take it in turns to cross to the other side safely, and there could still be an element of competition. If they took their time, no one needed to die. Technoblade tried not to think of the pressing matter of Dream - that he  _ certainly  _ wasn’t going to play by the rules. He could only hope that his competitive nature would take over and he’d disappear into the distance, trying to grab first place while the others simply tried to survive.

If, for whatever reason, Dream fell, he wasn’t going to risk his own life to save him. After all, he’d said he wouldn’t show mercy.

The first map loaded in, and the ten survivors found themselves standing atop a huge, sealed vault. Their outfits had been replaced with skin tight suits and helmets with dark visors - the colours of the latex clinging to their skin the only way to really be able to tell teams apart. On their backs, everyone wore an elytra, and Technoblade let out a breath of relief. Flying an elytra was very much an individual exercise, people could spread out easily and put distance between another person at a moments notice if they had to. This might have been the safest he’d felt in some time.

“Tubbo, how do you feel about this one?”

“Good!” The younger man said, forcing a slight smile onto his face that Technoblade could barely see. “I think I can do well in it, I always liked flying.”

“Stay safe.” Technoblade said, finding a position at the edge of the platform away from Dream - as almost everyone seemed to be doing. “You just need to finish to get a decent amount of points, even with the multiplier there won’t be much of a gap between first and tenth. Don’t do anything that puts you in danger.”

“I know.” Tubbo said. “I won’t.”

Alarms began to blare and pistons began to move, and the sounds of machinery started to echo in the vault as a far too gentle voice came across the tannoy system.

“Warning, borehole hatch doors are preparing to open. Please stand clear of the drop zone.”

As the mechanism worked and churned the doors began to open, revealing a steep drop into a lush cave system. Waterfalls flowed from the ceiling, with stalactites hanging and stalagmites growing upward. Toward the edges of the cave the stone, moss, and leaves mixed: getting caught there would spell almost certain doom, and even  _ if  _ the floor looked somewhat soft he doubted the chance of surviving that kind of drop at any speed would be high. 

“Remember, GDL will not be held responsible in the event of a likely death.” Technoblade winced at the words, not particularly wanting to think of the implications that had now compared to when the game had first been designed. Whatever was going on, surely  _ no one  _ would have foreseen this.

“Your descent will begin in three… Two.... One.”

Confident in his own abilities, Technoblade jumped from the edge as soon as the countdown ended. As did Dream, Tommy, and HBomb. The others followed a little more staggered, and before long nothing but the sound of wind filled Technoblade’s ears. 

He was gaining speed quickly, pulling a little ahead of Tommy and HBomb but remaining behind Dream. He had no intentions of trying to overtake, rather trying to act as a shield to the rest of the survivors, but Dream seemed almost entirely focused on securing points. Maybe he’d realised how difficult it would be to sabotage others on this map, or maybe he’d decided he’d honour George by trying to place as high as possible. Perhaps his madness was taking a turn, perhaps his grief had morphed from anger into guilt…

As he passed by a waterfall, spray covered his visor and the droplets of water were forced back by the wind, covering his mask in streaks that made it temporarily more difficult to see. He still twisted his body to avoid hanging leaves and stalactites, and pulled back a little to slow himself and avoid crashing into an abandoned mineshaft that stretched across the cave. The cave split into two separate paths and as Dream took the right, he took the left. The speed he’d lost was quickly regained, and he found himself having to move quickly to dodge falling rocks. Before long the paths rejoined and the narrow caves widened into a cavern, and the end was in sight. Dream had pulled far ahead, and Technoblade watched as he landed and took first place. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Tommy was close behind him, with HBomb hot on his heels. He could see in the distance a few streaks of pink as Mefs and fWhip began their final approach too, and he focused himself back on the path in front of him. 

To keep from injuring his ankles when landing, he moved so he was angled almost upright and felt himself slow down quickly. He already had his hand formed into a fist when he dropped onto the landing area, and he swung to make contact with the first fan that he could. 

Second place,  _ easy.  _ He could stand back now and watch as the rest of the competitors flew in, all quickly punching a fan. Despite only having ten contestants left, there were still forty people to hit, and that left Technoblade’s stomach churning. It was a perfect visualisation of everyone they’d lost. He had to fight back the grief that washed over him, he  _ couldn’t  _ let himself mourn. Not today, not while there was still so much more danger ahead.

Sapnap was the last to finish, and as his fist connected with the jaw of a player, the world around them disappeared and they were sent into the next round.

# # # 

Tommy stood back from the crowd, looking at the course ahead of him. They had to cross several walls to reach the end of the map, and while the centre had water (although guardians lurked beneath the surface), the sides were drops into the void: death. He knew that he had to utter just a few short words to confirm to whoever was watching that he would side with the Emperor and he would respawn, but the fear of falling into the void and still experiencing that death  _ horrified  _ him. He’d been warned countless times of the pain it brought. 

“Hey, Tommy, are you alright?”

He looked up, Tubbo stood beside him, and his breath caught in his throat. For a moment he felt as if he was about to throw up at the sight of his best friend, his skin turning deathly pale and his eyes widening. 

“Always, Big T.”

The look that Tubbo gave him was one of utter disbelief, but his friend seemed to know better than push his questioning any further. 

“Alright.” He said sceptically. “Take your time, I can go ahead and bridge for you if you want. I don’t think anyone really cares about getting points anymore, it’s just about surviving.”

Tommy let his eyes dart toward Dream at Tubbo’s words - someone he was  _ fairly certain  _ still cared about points. Not just points, but kills. Just because he hadn’t taken anyone out before didn’t mean he  _ wasn’t  _ going to take anyone out. Odds were, he was waiting, biding his time, trying to pick the moment when he could do the most damage. With a void surrounding them, he had an awful feeling that the moment would be sooner rather than later.

The countdown began again, a sound Tommy  _ swore  _ he’d never want to hear again once this was all over, and Tubbo returned to the front of the crowd. Tommy still hung back, and seeing Dream do the same only served to make him more nervous.

He knew what he had to say, the words were on the tip of his tongue…

Horns blared, and several people began to build bridges together. Tubbo, HBomb, and fWhip were all building beside each other, creating a three block wide path for the others to use to cross the map in its entirety safely. Dream made no move to follow and no move to make his own bridge.

“Let the festivities of Manburg begin.” Tommy whispered to himself, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Let the festivities of Manburg begin. Let the festivities of Manburg begin.” He repeated the phrase like a mantra, a prayer, spoken so softly that he doubted he was saying it loud enough for anyone to even hear him. The words tasted like poison dripping from his lips, he felt guilt wrapping its cruel tendrils around his stomach and squeezing tightly with each pass, but he had no choice. He  _ couldn’t  _ save them, he could only save himself. 

He wasn’t a bad person, right?

“Tommy.” 

Dream’s voice forced him to open his eyes again and he tried to look as composed as possible.

“Dream.”

“Aren’t you going to head across, Tommy?”

He swallowed, then shook his head. The event was timed, if he  _ didn’t  _ get across then he wouldn’t be at any risk, he simply wouldn’t score any points. If he’d gone with the group then maybe he would have considered it, but with Dream at his side it felt like a trap. 

“Oh, come  _ on  _ Tommy, are you really going to give up just like that?”

“I’m not giving up, I just don’t want you to kill me.”

Dream scoffed, shaking his head and raising a hand to his chest as if the mere suggestion he would hurt Tommy was ridiculous. “I would  _ never--” _

“You’ve killed plenty of people, Dream. You’re not  _ slick,  _ you can’t pretend you didn’t just because I wasn’t looking at you when it happened.”

“I wouldn’t kill  _ you,  _ Tommy.”

“Sorry, but you can’t seriously think I’ll believe you.” Tommy deadpanned, deciding to take a step back. Dream smirked at the action, and he dreaded to imagine that Dream thought he’d managed to intimidate him. He couldn’t let Dream think even for a moment he had the upper hand. He didn’t want it to end like this.

The redstone tablet in Tommy’s pocket vibrated, signalling that points had been scored. The time from the first to last vibration was short, and it felt like in a blink of an eye the other eight contestants had finished.

It was him and Dream, no one to save him, no one to interfere. He glanced over Dream’s shoulder - surely if he  _ ran  _ he could make it.

“Be my guest.” Dream took a step to the side and gestured toward the path with one hand. “I’ll even let you have a head start.”

Tommy weighed the options up in his mind. On the one hand, they had no weapons, if he stayed where he was Dream wouldn’t be able to shoot at him or cut him down with a sword. On the other hand, it meant he had no way of fighting back if Dream’s hands went for his neck. The bridge itself had been built in the middle of the level, and with water below a fall would be painful but not deadly.

He didn’t think any longer. One foot went in front of the other and Tommy began to run as fast as he could. His muscles ached from the events of days gone by, and every bruise he’d sustained suddenly hurt like hell, but he pushed through it to put just a little more space between himself and Dream who - true to his word -  _ had  _ given him a head start.

Tommy got to the first wall before Dream began to chase him, and he got to the second wall before Dream caught up to him. He managed to dodge the first lunge, ducking his head underneath Dream’s arm and stopping in his tracks to let the older run straight past him, but he wasn’t so lucky the second time. Dream’s hand grabbed the back of his jacket, pulling him close enough for his other arm to wind itself around his middle, and before Tommy even had the chance to cry out he felt himself falling. For a split second, when he was suspended in the air, he believed he’d been thrown straight into the void, but then he felt a sharp pain in his spine and he was suddenly cold and wet, and then he was underwater.

Dream hadn’t let go of him, and the man in question tightened his grip. Tommy tried to kick him away, but Dream was stronger, and with the addition of guardians swimming in the water around them he found it impossible to stop the man from dragging him deeper and deeper into the water. He didn’t know just how far below the surface they could go, but a great deal of light had already been blocked out and his vision was much poorer than he hoped it would be. Combining poor vision with a tired body that was already injured and in pain, and with a quickly diminishing supply of air, Tommy was panicking. His fate seemed to be spelled out before him, and he wondered if drowning would be more or less painful than the void.

As his chest began to tighten and his lungs started to cry out for him to take a breath, he felt the nip of something sharp embedding into his arm. One of the guardians had managed to sink its spike into him, and he almost found himself hoping that the guardian would kill him before he had to open his mouth and feel his lungs fill with water.

And then, as he prepared himself for his last moments of life, something happened.

He wasn’t the only one that a guardian had tagged with its spike - Dream had one sticking into the back of his neck. The guardian that had attached itself to him sent a shock down his spine and Dream’s nervous system was fried before his eyes. He might have been moments away from falling unconscious himself, but he could feel the spasms of Dream’s muscles as his fingers tightened and loosened their grip on him erratically - enough for Tommy to wiggle free and begin to kick his way back toward the surface. He moved as fast as he could, hands racing to pull the spike from his own arm before he was shocked too. Bubbles rose up before him, though he couldn’t tell if they were the remains of air from his lungs or Dreams. He didn’t have time to think or to worry, all he could do was keep kicking his legs and hope that the dark spots in his vision weren’t a sign that he’d managed to escape too late. 

His body felt weak, his legs were beginning to feel like led and his eyes were dangerously close to drooping shut. Keeping his mouth shut and refusing to let himself breathe in through his nose became a more laborious task with every second that passed.

Eventually, he couldn’t control himself any longer. He opened his mouth and breathed in.

And, as if a miracle had occurred, he breathed in water for less than a second before the water around him disappeared and he found himself on solid ground, a new platform. The round had ended while he was underwater, and suddenly there were a dozen hands on his body helping to roll him over as he switched between coughing, vomiting, and breathing in air desperately. He could feel himself shivering and his chest began to tighten all over again, but through it all he could hear people. His body was too weak and felt too distant from his brain for him to form any kind of reply to the words being spoken, but he could identify people and that gave him a comfort he desperately needed. 

He could hear Tubbo’s voice calling his name, with Technoblade trying to do his best to keep him conscious. Krinios seemed to be speaking softly, coaxing him through the worst of his pain as another cough left his mouth and more water left his lungs. Eventually he felt a hand take his own and tried to look in the direction he thought the hold had come from - trying to will his eyes to focus enough for him to figure out who was holding him. Everything seemed blurry, but he could only see orange. 

Orange was the last thing he saw before he felt his eyes shut and his body slump forward, and Tubbo’s voice screaming his name was the last thing he heard before everything went silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	11. No Matter The Cost

Technoblade had tried to get Tubbo to move - tried to encourage him to follow and let Tommy have a moment to rest alone - but there was  _ nothing  _ that could make Tubbo move from where he sat. Tommy had almost died, and after coughing up all the water from his lungs he’d passed out, how was he supposed to leave his friend’s side after that? Even if he  _ did _ try to complete the course, he was too shaken up: he’d fall into the void, there was no doubt about that. 

For now, Tubbo sat cross-legged at the start of the course with Tommy’s head in his lap, trying to keep it tilted to the side in case he began to cough again while he rested. His fingers moved through the soaked curls on his head, trying to comfort his friend the way his mother comforted him when he was sick. He wasn’t used to being on this end of things, but he wasn’t about to let Tommy be alone after he’d almost died… 

Guilt settled in his stomach. It wasn’t all encompassing, it didn’t make things unbearable, but it was there. It was there as a presence that made itself known and the way that it sat - calm and quiet - made it clear that it wasn’t going to go away any time soon. He supposed it made sense. Tommy had only drowned because he’d been alone with Dream - he’d only brushed with death because no one had stayed with him. He should have been there, at his friend’s side, rather than on the other side of the map. Points didn’t matter, not now, what  _ mattered  _ was surviving. 

“I’m so sorry Tommy.” He whispered. If Tommy was awake, he wouldn’t have said it. Tommy was his friend, and even if the trauma of it all seemed to be affecting him differently, even if he seemed a little more reserved than normal, he was still his friend. Just because he’d been quiet didn’t change anything between them. He wouldn’t want Tommy to wake up and feels guilty at what he was saying.

“I’m so sorry I let Dream do that to you.” A cursory glance over his shoulder confirmed that Dream’s body was still completely motionless. He’d been soaked to the bone too, but he hadn’t coughed up any water and hadn’t gained consciousness when the level had reset. He must’ve been teleported back to the start the split second he’d died. 

Whatever had happened to Dream - whether he’d had a part in all this or had simply been driven mad with grief - seeing his corpse there was unpleasant. It was a reminder of what could have happened to Tommy if he hadn’t been teleported when he had.

“I promise, I won’t let you get hurt again. Techno’s watching my back, so I’m going to watch yours. Whatever happens, I’ll keep you safe.”

He brought a hand to Tommy’s cheek, his fingers brushing over his cold skin. He looked so pale, so small, and if Tubbo couldn’t feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed he would have assumed that the man was dead. 

When they teleported to the next level, Tubbo felt Tommy moving in his arms. Clearly the command made it more difficult to remain unconscious, but despite a quiet groan he stayed asleep. Tubbo felt eyes on him, and he looked back to see Technoblade, HBomb, and Sapnap watching with concern. Dream’s body hadn’t accompanied them this time, which he assumed meant the man was finally dead.

He didn’t know if he should be relieved or horrified.

The seven continued on, leaving the boys alone again, and Tubbo pulled Tommy closer to his chest. 

Their friendship had, until a little over two weeks ago, been entirely online. Tubbo  _ liked  _ physical affection. He liked hugging his friends, grabbing their hands to pull them toward something he saw that he thought was cool, he liked pulling faces and flipping them off. Showing his appreciation for his friends was just something he enjoyed doing physically, so the months of talking to Tommy online had been a new experience for him. He knew when he’d arrived in L’Manburg that he was going to be clingy, and he’d hoped that wouldn’t put Tommy off him, but he’d never expected it to be like this. He thought they’d be celebrating together, pushing each other over, laughing in the Hub as they tested their limits in this strange reality, or running around the streets of L’Manburg hand in hand so they didn’t get lost in a crowd. He hadn’t expected that he’d be holding his best friend tight, trying his best to keep him warm despite the cold, wet clothes that stuck to his body, trying to offer his unconscious form comfort.

None of this was going how he’d expected it to go.

“Tubbo?”

Tubbo blinked, pulling himself from his thoughts, and his eyes landed on Tommy’s face. His lips looked to have taken on a slightly blue tinge and he shivered, eyes wide and blinking quickly.

“Tommy!” Tubbo exclaimed, leaning over to pull his friend even closer and hug him as tightly as he could. “You’re okay, I promise you’re gonna be okay.”

“I want to be safe--” Tommy whispered, a quiet sob pulling itself from his lips. “I want-- The festival--”

“Festival?” Tubbo asked, furrowing his brows. “Do you know where we are?”

“M-Manburg.” He stammered. “I’ll do anything just-- Please, don’t let me die.”

“You aren’t going to die, Tommy.” Tubbo said firmly, one hand moving up his back to rest in his head and encourage the younger to seek whatever comfort he needed. He wouldn’t let his friend down. “We’re in L’Manburg, we’re competing in Minecraft Championships, there’s been an accident but you’re okay. Once we’re back to the Hub everything will be okay.”

“Tubbo--”   
  


“Go back to sleep Tommy.” Tubbo told him. “Close your eyes. Next time you wake up you’ll be in bed, you’ll be warm, everyone will be there. You’ll have nothing to worry about. I promise. Just try and get some rest.”

He felt Tommy’s head nod against his shoulder, and Tubbo just held him. He had no plans on letting go until they were back in the Hub, and even then someone was going to have to wrestle Tommy out of his arms. His friend wasn’t going to leave his sight. Whatever he had to do to keep Tommy safe, he’d do it. He’d never forgive himself if Tommy was hurt again.

No matter what it cost him.

# # #

As the afternoon had slowly passed by, the five sat in Niki’s apartment. It was unusual for the  _ ABC Cafe and Bakery  _ to be so quiet for so long, but with a Government mandated shutdown and now the order for foreigners to leave the country the silence felt even  _ more  _ unnatural. There was no hum of chatter, no clattering of cups and no crackle of a fire, just Niki sitting on her couch and rereading the letter that had been posted through her letterbox for the third time since waking up. Skeppy and Bad sat beside her, hand in hand, watching her intently, and Ant and Velvet stood in the kitchen, silently nursing cups of tea. They were practically linked at the hip, unable to talk about what had  _ almost  _ happened before but unwilling to let their walls go back up. They’d talk about it eventually.

“I don’t like this.” Niki said, leaning further back into her sofa

“Read it to us again?” Velvet suggested, and Niki twisted a little to hand the paper to Bad. 

“I want to listen.” She explained.

Bad took the paper without another moment passing, letting go of Skeppy’s hand to straighten it out between his fingers and begin to read.

_ “To Whom it May Concern, _

_ My name is Alex Quackity, the former Member of Parliament for L’Manburg and Minister for Trade, Business, and Industry. I write to you today in my new role as the Secretary for the Economy, Finance, and Business.  _

_ As one of the many valued business owners in Manburg, I hope to provide clarity surrounding the ongoing emergency situation in our country, and seek to provide reassurance that our Empire is doing what it can to ensure the safety of her people, and the survival of her businesses.  _

_ I understand that the action taken by our Empire has come at very short notice, and the financial implications that many will be facing will be a great source of worry and stress to many. Property tax, income tax, and value added tax will all be disregarded during this period of time. Any staff you employ will be eligible for a furlough scheme - more information on this will be provided both electronically and physically when the communication infrastructure in our great Empire is restored. As soon as possible, I will seek to clarify further our plans to support businesses during this time and in the coming weeks and months, and hope that you will be ready to bounce back and help rebuild our great Empire.  _

_ While our current focus is on protecting people, saving lives, and avoiding conflict, we have requested that all non-Manburg citizens leave the country. If any of your employees are normally resident in another country, or do not have Manburg citizenship, then we ask you to fill in the form on the reverse of this letter and return to our offices using the freepost envelope enclosed. This will ensure we can provide the correct financial support to those businesses in need, and can help with the interim re- and up-skilling of citizens of Manburg to fulfil any labour shortages. _

_ The Government thanks you for your compliance at this time.  _

_ I hope this resolves any immediate queries you may have. Further information will be distributed as our infrastructure is repaired. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Alex Quackity _

_ Secretary of the Economy, Finance, and Business” _

Bad looked up as Niki snatched the paper from his hands, the woman getting to her feet and beginning to pace her small apartment. 

“This isn’t right.” Niki repeated. “Our country is  _ L’Manburg,  _ not  _ Manburg.  _ We aren’t an Empire, we’re a country.”

“Maybe they just had a typo that no one caught.” Ant reasoned, though even as the words left his lips they didn’t feel true. 

“How did they do this so quickly? If all the communication systems are down then how do they have my address? How do they have everyone’s address, presumably, that runs a business?”

“Maybe it’s all stored offline?” Skeppy suggested. “The electricity is still working.”

“This doesn’t feel right to me.” Niki said, growing more and more frustrated with the fact that her friends seemed to have reasonable answers for the flaws she pointed out. “They locked down our entire country, they’re trying to send anyone that isn’t a citizen away, isn’t that ringing alarm bells for the rest of you?!” She asked, turning to Bad and Skeppy with a sigh of annoyance. “You came  _ here.  _ If you didn’t think there was something suspicious going on you’d have done as you were told, you’d have left the country, but you came back to my cafe. To us. Why?”

Niki watched them, eyes narrow and demanding of answers, and Ant and Velvet straightened their backs where they stood. Bad and Skeppy looked to each other for a moment, before Skeppy spoke up.

“It seemed wrong.” He said. “You’re right. It doesn’t  _ feel  _ right. Everything they did just seemed…”

“It was rushed.” Bad finished. “Nothing was planned, there was no co-ordination. You spoke to one soldier and they’d tell you something different to the one before, and the one you asked after them.”

“Exactly.” Skeppy nodded. “We didn’t feel safe, we didn’t even think about coming here, we just did. As soon as we got out, we came here.”

“And if they got out, whatever’s going on is too chaotic and too last minute for those in charge to keep a close eye on the situation.” Niki said, turning to face Ant and Velvet with a frown etched into her forehead. “Something’s happening.”

“Why would anyone try anything now?” Velvet asked. “It’s the middle of the Championships, the entire world is watching us. Who would attack our country this obviously?”

“We don’t even know  _ who  _ is attacking.” Ant said. “When Schlatt gave his speech, he never said. Right? He just said it was  _ our enemies,  _ but who even  _ are  _ our enemies?”

The five remained in silence for a moment, considering the implications of their discussion, when the afternoon peace was disturbed by two curt knocks on the door to the bakery. 

Niki’s eyes widened, Velvet’s hand fell to his side and reached instinctively for Ant’s, and Bad and Skeppy went rigid. A knock like that wasn’t a panicked civilian, that wasn’t someone passing by in secret to purchase a spare loaf, there was only one person that could have knocked like that.

“I’ll get it.” Niki said quietly.

“What if they come upstairs?” Bad asked as Niki crossed the room to stand by the stairs that led down to the bakery itself.

“Hide in my closet, Ant and Velvet can make sure the clothes cover you both completely. We’ll tell you when it’s safe to come out.”

Two more knocks, harder this time, and Niki straightened her clothes before starting to walk downstairs as the four men hurriedly moved from the living space to her bedroom. She took in a deep breath before opening the door to the bakery, and once she knew that the soldiers knocking on the door had seen her appear behind a counter through the window she walked as slowly as she could justify, weaving between tables and chairs to buy her friends time.

She swallowed nervously when she was concealed behind the wooden door, steadying a shaking hand as she twisted the lock, before pulling the door inwards and putting on the most charming smile she could.

“Can I help you?”

“Ma’am.” One soldier gave a sharp nod. The man that stood beside him she recognised, and her eyes widened ever so slightly.  _ He  _ was the bastard that had knocked her to the ground, and she could tell from his face that he recognised her too.

“Ever so sorry for the intrusion, ma’am.” He supplied, stepping forward a little. He seemed almost apologetic, as if he wanted to make amends with her without mentioning what had happened. She wondered just how far out of line he’d stepped when he’d harmed her, and she wondered just how far she could use that to her advantage. 

“Do you live above the bakery, ma’am?” The first soldier asked, and Niki nodded. 

“Just me.” She informed them. “Though my friends have been staying with me, they live across the city and when the shutdown was ordered they decided to stay here. I was feeling under the weather, they wanted to make sure I wasn’t alone.” There was a pause. “Do you need anything from me?”

“Not at all. We’re marking this down for our records, there’ll be an official census of the Empire taking place in the future, but for now we’re just making sure we know if there’s any non-Manburg citizens on the premises.”

“None.” Niki said carefully, trying not to answer too fast or too slow. “Though I’m not sure if my friends have any proof of identity with them, we weren’t exactly expecting this.”

“Not to worry. We’ll trust, for now, that they’re citizens. We’ll check paperwork during the census.” The first soldier smiled. Niki smiled back, but she didn’t like how friendly they were being. The conversation continued for a little while longer, and Niki kept one hand hidden behind the door so the soldiers couldn’t see her digging her nails into her palm as she tried her best to keep her composure. Rattling off her name and address, and Ant and Velvet’s full names and addresses, seemed to keep the soldiers in good spirits. She hoped that she’d done enough to keep them from stepping foot on her property, her heart was racing and despite knowing that Bad and Skeppy were hidden she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to cope with letting them inside.

“Well, thank you for stopping by. If that’s all you need…” She trailed off, her hidden hand now drumming against the door.

“Of course, we won’t take up any more of your day. Stay safe, ma’am.” 

Offering a curt, polite nod she closed the door behind her, waiting for a few moments before daring to lock it, and she let herself sink down to the ground. With her knees brought up to her chest, she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and closed her eyes.

Something was wrong, something was  _ very  _ wrong, and even though Niki knew she was sitting on the floor of her bakery feeling lost and defeated she knew she wouldn’t let things remain that way. How could she? Even if her new friends weren’t in danger,  _ someone  _ would be, and she couldn’t just let that slide.

She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she would find a way to fix things. 

No matter what it cost her.

# # #

When Tommy woke up, he was warm. No, he realised he wasn’t  _ warm,  _ but instead he was  _ surrounded  _ by warm. He was cold, but the air that surrounded his body was warm, and the blankets that kept the air trapped against his body were warm. There was a weight on his chest that felt warm, too, and despite the weight being heavy he didn’t feel as though his breathing was restricted.

_ Breathing. _

He gasped, he opened his mouth desperately and lurched upright fast enough that the weight on his chest was startled and shifted back as he fought to breathe. He remembered cold, he remembered darkness, he remembered pain and breathlessness and water pouring down his throat. Was he going to die? He couldn’t die, he didn’t want to die, he wanted--

“Tommy!”

He blinked. He wasn’t swallowing down water, his lungs weren’t filled with liquid, he wasn’t beneath the surface anymore. Instead, he recognised that he was back in the Hub, in the team quarters, though not  _ his  _ team quarters. Everything around him was a dark green rather than the cyan he had become accustomed to. Where was he?

“Techno, he’s awake!” 

Tubbo’s voice, that was Tubbo, he knew Tubbo. He smiled. Tubbo was a friend, Tubbo meant safety, and Technoblade… He might have been competing against him but if the man had allowed him to stay in his team quarters, then surely he was going to be on his side too. 

“Tommy, can you hear me? Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“Fine.” Tommy managed to croak. His throat hurt like hell, and despite knowing that water would soothe that pain he wanted to be nowhere near it for the time being. 

The weight was back in his chest again, and Tommy realised this time that the weight was Tubbo. He’d practically flung himself back on top of Tommy and his arms wrapped around him as tightly as he dared. Tommy returned the gesture without a second thought, burying his head into his friend’s shoulder and letting himself appreciate just how safe he felt in that moment.

He wished the moment could last.

“I was so scared, Tommy, I thought you’d… I thought you’d died.”

“I’m not gonna die that easily.” The words were supposed to sound confident and cocky, but they sounded impossibly fragile. “Promise.” He squeezed Tubbo a little tighter, and he could tell his friend appreciated it.

“You’ve been out for hours. You need to eat something, or drink something, you have to get your strength back.”

“Might I suggest soup.” Technoblade asked, appearing in the doorway to the room and letting his eyes run over Tommy once. “You’re in a spare set of pyjamas, you were freezing and your clothes were soaked. I’ve got everything drying for you to wear tomorrow, you can still rep your team colours.” He said, and Tommy assumed that was a half arsed attempt of a joke (even  _ if  _ Technoblade’s lips didn’t curl up, and he didn’t chuckle). 

“I could try soup.” He said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You’re safe, now.” Technoblade said, and Tommy could tell this time that his serious tone was intentional. “We’ve come to an agreement with the games that are left, we’ll vote for Ace Race and Sands of Time. Both are timed events, if you don’t want to participate you can sit Ace Race out or jump straight through the portal in Sands of Time, you’ll be safe. Dream is gone.”

“You mean…”

“Dead.” 

Tommy swallowed at Technoblade’s single word. They were friends, weren’t they? Why did he seem so unemotional about the situation? He supposed it wasn’t really his place to pry, but he was still curious.

“I watched him die.” Tommy admitted. “A guardian shocked him, I think it saved my life.”

“Hm.” Technoblade didn’t sound impressed, turning his back and walking to find Tommy the food he’d been promised.

The boys were left alone, and for a brief moment silence fell over the room. Tubbo shuffled back to perch on the edge of the bed, and Tommy sat up with his back against the wall. His entire body ached as he moved, and he didn’t expect that ache to go away anytime soon. 

“Are you okay?” Tubbo asked. “I don’t mean the drowning thing, I mean… Just in general.” He paused, and when Tommy didn’t answer he continued. “Phil and Fundy died in Battlebox and then Scott in Hole in the Wall--”

Tommy flinched at Scott’s name, closing his eyes and forcing himself to take in a deep breath.

“Tommy?”

“I’m fine.” He said - he  _ lied.  _ “I’m fine. I just… They were my friends. They died. Some of them died to protect me.” 

It hurt all the more when he realised he didn’t need protecting. If Schlatt wanted him as an heir - if Scott  _ knew  _ Schlatt wanted him as an heir - then this was planned. This had been known about in advance. He could have been told before Battlebox, and he could have sworn allegiance to Schlatt then. It would have saved Phil’s life, and maybe the butterfly effect would mean that it saved Fundy and Scott too. Sure, Scott had told him of the plans to whittle the numbers down as much as possible, he knew  _ why  _ they were doing that, but Scott had told him a lot in a very short period of time. He forgave himself for questioning it all now, a few short hours after nearly drowning - nearly being  _ murdered  _ \- by a fellow competitor.

“I feel responsible.” Tommy explained. “I want to be safe, but I’m scared that trying to keep myself safe will put others in danger.”

“We all want to be safe.” Tubbo shrugged. “It’s not bad to want to be safe, especially not when everything around us seems to be going wrong… You shouldn’t feel guilty about wanting to be safe. Whatever happens, Tommy, I want you to be safe.”

“What--  _ Whatever happens?” _

“Of course! You’re my best friend, why wouldn’t I want you to be safe?”

A thousand different thoughts ran through Tommy’s head in that moment, but he couldn’t voice any of them. If he told Tubbo, if he told  _ anyone,  _ then he doubted Schlatt, Noxite, or Scott would be forgiving. He doubted they would show any mercy. He wanted to be safe, and while he didn’t want his friends to be in danger while he was safe, he wanted to be in harm's way even less. 

Was that greedy? Was it  _ selfish? _

Perhaps. 

But he was a child. He didn’t like admitting it - he’d call himself a man as often as he could - but he was still only sixteen, the youngest ever competitor in the Championships, and he’d almost died more times than he could count in the last few days. He’d been offered protection, so excuse him for taking the opportunity to cling to safety a little longer.

Besides, Tubbo wanted him to be safe. He wanted him to be safe  _ whatever happened.  _

Before he could say anything, Technoblade returned with a bowl of soup and a hunk of bread, and Tommy felt his stomach growling. Rather than continue their conversation, Tubbo got to his feet and stepped away with Technoblade. 

“If you need anything, let us know. We’re just going to be in the other room, okay?”

Tommy nodded, waiting until Tubbo and Technoblade left and closed the door behind them before he let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He let the bowl of soup rest in his lap, dunking the hunk of bread in and waiting until it had softened enough to eat and swallow without causing any more distress to his already pained throat. 

He wanted to be safe, and Tubbo wanted him to be safe too. With Ace Race and Sands of Time the final two events - if voting went according to plan - he was in no danger of dying. All he needed to do was find a moment alone to whisper the words just a little louder in the hopes that it would be picked up by the Noxcrew. Scott hadn’t told him what would happen when someone heard him say the phrase - he didn’t know if they already knew he’d spoken it, or if they’d already planned how they would pull him safely out of the server - but he wasn’t going to risk it. He’d say it again and again and again, until his voice disappeared entirely. 

He was going to be safe, and he was going to take Schlatt up on his offer. The guilt would pass eventually, right? After all, even Tubbo said he wanted him to be safe. He was doing the right thing… Right?

Yes, he was doing the right thing, and he would be safe and protected.

No matter what it cost him.

# # #

“Scott!” Schlatt entered the room as he always did - loudly announcing his presence and taking up as much space as possible. As he splayed his arms out, the cape on his shoulders drooped ever so slightly. Scott looked up after a moment to make eye contact with Schlatt, a medic handing over a cup of water and quietly encouraging the newly conscious man to drink.

“How are you feeling, Scott?” Noxite asked, arms folded across his chest and fingers playing with one of the braces that rested on his chest.

“Like shit.” Scott laughed against the rim of the cup, blinking slowly as he readjusted to the world around him. “Being downloaded is never fun.”

“We can walk and talk, if you’d like?” Noxite suggested. “Head over to the medical facility so you can have a proper check up when we’re done.”

Scott nodded, finishing the water he’d been given and getting to his feet. He was shaky at first - several days of anaesthetic keeping him unconscious the main culprit behind his lack of balance - but Noxite was quick to wrap an arm around his shoulders and keep him upright. 

“So what happened in there, Scotty?” Schlatt asked, hands shoving into his trouser pockets. “You saw more than us.”

“Techno’s in charge, no surprise there. Once Dream went off the rails there wasn’t exactly anyone else it would fall to. People trust him, he’s trying to be as level headed as he can about it all I think.”

“He’s one of the best, if not  _ the  _ best.” Noxite said, turning his head to look at Schlatt. “We could use him.”

“He’d be an excellent choice for the programme.” Schlatt nodded, his footsteps echoing in the corridors as they walked slowly. He was trying to keep his annoyance hidden regarding the speed they walked at - the twitching of his fingers hidden by the fabric of his trousers - and he pushed the conversation further. “What more can you tell us?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know how much has happened since I died.” Scott said, and the two turned to look at Noxite as he used one hand to pull his communicator from his pocket. It was old fashioned, deliberately, everyone that needed to keep in touch while the Empire’s infrastructure was down had been given a similar device. It took a moment for Noxite to read through the messages sent, and he hummed to himself before speaking.

“They’re playing To Get To The Other Side.” He said. “We know Tommy voted for Survival Games.”

“Has he said the phrase?” 

Noxite shrugged. 

“No one’s mentioned it to me if he has.” 

“Look, the kid voted for Survival Games, that’s suicide right now. Whether he’s said it or not, we know he’s on our side.” Schlatt said. “I need  _ something  _ on the kid, Scotty. Gimme something good.”

“He’s close to Tubbo.” He said. “I don’t know if you can do anything with that, Tubbo’s on a team with Techno. If we want him to comply with us, we need to keep the kid safe.”

“We can make Technoblade comply if we have to.” Schlatt pointed out. “He’s currently restrained and unconscious, there’s  _ nothing  _ he can do in the real world to stop us from using him. But if you think Tubbo is Tommy’s connection to these people--”

“--Schlatt.” Noxite cut in. “You can’t suggest something like that!”

“Can’t I?” He asked, stopping in his tracks and raising an eyebrow as he looked at the two men beside him. “I think you’re forgetting who the Emperor is, Noxite.” 

He watched the two with beady eyes following their every motion under a microscope. He could tell his focus made them squirm, that his presence commanded them even as he stood in silence. Everything about him was intimidating in some way - from the neatly trimmed facial hair to the heavy cape that hung around his shoulders, to the rich purple blazer and the velvet trousers that clung to him. He radiated the power he held, and he  _ knew  _ he was in charge.

“Very well.” Noxite said, beginning to continue walking with Schlatt again. “Is there anything else you know?”

“Dream’s gone off the rails.” Scott said. “That’s it. As soon as George died, he snapped. He’s not in on this, he’s not helping us, we can’t  _ trust him,  _ he just happened to do something useful.”

“Hey, we’ve got Tommy on our side, we’ve got Techno for the programme, we don’t  _ need  _ him.” Schlatt commented, waiting for a moment for Scott to speak again before realising that was all the information he had. It hadn’t been entirely useless, he supposed, he’d just hoped for  _ more.  _

“I should let you know what we’re working on.” Schlatt began. “The International community isn’t a big fan of the shutdown, no surprises there. They’ve been putting a lot of pressure on us to allow their nationals to return to their home countries but beyond that no one seems to be really  _ doing  _ anything. Sure, they’ve criticised the choices and they  _ say  _ they don’t like that there’s not been any transparency in the process, but the only public statements they’re following through on is getting their citizens home safely. It’s  _ funny  _ how little politicians actually care.” He chuckled. “So we’re rounding them up early, we’ve had the military trying to gather all the tourists and get them on flights home. We’ve got no air traffic coming into the country, and once everyone that shouldn’t be here is gone we’ll have none going out either. There’s guards on all our borders and increased police and military presence in our waters: no one is getting in or out without us knowing.”

“What if there’s people still here once this is all done?” Scott asked.

“Well, we’re organising a census for the next couple weeks. When we think we’ve gotten everyone out of the country that shouldn’t be here, we’ll let people back out into the streets and give them a little freedom back. We’ll do a census and anyone here that  _ isn’t  _ a Manburg citizen will be dealt with appropriately.”

“When you say appropriately--” Scott began.

“If they comply, they’ll only be arrested. So long as they do as they’re told, they’ll have nothing to worry about. We’ll take the birth certificates from our citizens and replace them with identity cards, the paperwork all says  _ L’Manburg  _ anyway.”

They stood outside the door to the medical centre then, Noxite resting his palm against it to push it open before he was stopped when Schlatt grabbed his wrist.

“Make sure they take care of Scott, I’d like you both in my new Cabinet.”

“Sir… I thought we’d already discussed this.” Noxite frowned, watching as Schlatt’s free hand wormed its way into his blazer pocket and pulled out his almost trademarked flask. “I thought you already had a Cabinet in place, you were reshuffling and restructuring rather than replacing anyone.”

“I’ve changed my mind.” He said, taking a quick swig. “I trust the two of you. You might not have the political experience, but you’ll learn. I’ll have a think when I’m back, see which of those weasels is most likely to double cross me.”

“Of course, sir.” Noxite nodded. There was nothing more to say, and as Schlatt let go of his wrist Noxite led Scott into the medical centre without another word. 

Before walking away, Schlatt finished what was left in his flask, letting the alcohol burn the back of his throat as he drank a little faster than he normally would. After swallowing, he sucked in a breath between a set jaw and gritted teeth, closing his eyes and shaking his head until the sensation left him. The flask was hidden in fabric again, and he began the short walk back to the stasis chambers. 

Despite the corridors being hauntingly empty, and his journey being entirely alone, he couldn’t shake the feeling of voices in his head. 

He hid it well, stepping into the room with all the theatrics he normally brought with him, and without bothering to greet the scientists and medics hard at work keeping all thirty nine bodies in stasis he marched toward the chamber that he was most interested in. 

Tommy looked incredibly peaceful where he stood, his breathing slow and his features gentle. None of the trauma and pain from the server had caught up to his physical body yet - his mind still blissfully detached and the consequences of his fights burdening his digital form. His hair had grown noticeably in the several days he’d been unconscious, and Schlatt let himself chuckle. One of the first things he’d do when the boy woke up was straighten out his appearance: he’d tame those unruly curls and straighten his posture before the public lay their eyes on their heir. 

“Your Imperial Majesty, we’ve recalibrated the chamber.” One scientist dared to speak up, pointing to the now empty stasis chamber beside Tommy. It had been Scott’s, and now it would be his. “Whenever you’re ready, we can begin the upload.”

“Thank you.” He said quietly, his head lowering briefly. “I’ll be a moment. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, sir.”

And with that, the scientists took a step back. They still had to monitor the systems keeping the bodies alive, but they would give the Emperor the privacy he desired.

“You’re a good kid.” Schlatt whispered, placing a hand on the glass window into Tommy’s stasis chamber and brushing his thumb over the glass where he could see the younger man’s cheek. Tommy was brave, he was smart, he was charismatic. Everything he wanted in an heir, everything he wanted in a legacy, he saw in Tommy. He was the son he’d always wanted.

“I’ll keep you safe. You just have to trust me.”

The words were true, and he planned on showing that. There was always a chance that he’d be asking too much of the boy to prove his allegiance, but if he won over Tommy’s trust then nothing was impossible. 

There were two more games before Dodgebolt.

“You know you can trust me.”

With that, Schlatt pulled back from the glass and flashed Tommy’s unconscious body one last smile before he stepped to the side and removed his cape - handing it to the nearest person before he stepped into his own stasis chamber. He remained still as the restraints were adjusted for his body and he paid no mind to the dozens of IVs, electrodes and monitors he was hooked up to. He was the Emperor after all, and this was to secure the future of his Empire: he’d do anything to keep the dream alive.

The door to the stasis chamber shut, and he felt anaesthetic start to pump through his veins. It felt strange, though he knew that alcohol consumption so soon before an upload would make the process a little more uncomfortable. 

“Trust me, Tommy…” He whispered, before his eyes finally fluttered closed. “You  _ know  _ you can trust… Trust me…”

He fell unconscious clinging to his one final thought: that he would win Tommy’s trust.

No matter what it cost him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's so much foreshadowing in this chapter... if anyone can guess what happens in the comments below i'll give you a cookie
> 
> if you did enjoy, please consider leaving a kudos or a comment. not to sound like dream, but only 10% of my readers leave a kudos & 1.1% leave a comment. both gestures take a moment to do but make my day, & it's totally free ;D
> 
> love you all! hope you enjoy the mcc season finale tonight (& i hope it's a little less dramatic than this au...)


	12. The End of a Chapter

Niki was a good woman. She was a kind woman. She was thoughtful, she was gentle, and she  _ truly  _ cared. She’d stood up for those less fortunate than her, but normally she only stood against or one two people. Never in her life did she think she’d be in a position where she was standing against something like this. She didn’t trust the Government, she didn’t trust the military, and  _ someone  _ had to do something about that. It just seemed a little odd, in her mind, that it was the woman who spent her evenings feeding the stray cats in the alleyways, but when Skeppy and Bad had emerged from the closet where they’d been hiding she  _ knew  _ it was the right thing to do.

If the Government were in the right, then why would anyone need to hide?

“Bad, Skeppy, you’re staying with me.” She said eventually, her arms wrapped around her waist and bunching her jumper up in her fists as she searched for something to cling to while she thought. “Ant, Velvet, when this shutdown is over and the three of us are allowed outside again we need to find more evidence into what’s going on. Whatever Schlatt is doing, whatever he’s planning, we need to know. The military seem to be working with him, which makes it harder, but if we’re going to put a stop to all this--”

“Put a stop to it?” Ant cut her off, looking at Velvet nervously for a moment before back to his friend. “Niki, you said it yourself, the military is working with him. If something’s afoot - if you’re  _ certain  _ you’re right in all this - what can we do anyway?”

“We can’t just stand here.” Niki said firmly. “I care about this land, Ant. I care about you guys, about everyone here, and if something’s wrong then I  _ can’t  _ just stand back and watch it happen. I understand if you don’t feel as though you can take this risk, and I don’t want to force you into putting yourself in danger, but my mind is set.”

“We’ll help.” Bad said. “I mean, it’s not like we have any other option.” He laughed a little. 

“You could leave the country…” Niki turned her head to look over her shoulder, her eyes sad as she gave a non-committal shrug. “It’s  _ technically  _ an option.”

“We  _ want  _ to help.” Skeppy replied. “Both of us do. We’ll stand by your side.”

“I will, too.” Velvet said. “Whatever’s going on, we’re friends, and I’m not going to let you do this alone.”

Niki tried her hardest not to look at Ant - she didn’t want to guilt him into doing something he didn’t want to do - but the other three didn’t seem to get the same memo and after a moment under Velvet’s scrutinising gaze, he let his shoulders drop.

“I don’t want to see you hurt, Niki. You’ve already had your head cracked open just for going outside, if you’re plotting against the Government who knows what’ll happen to you.” He said.

“And if I don’t, who knows what they’ll do to everyone else. Just because they aren’t targeting me now, doesn’t mean they won’t. If I don’t care when someone else is being attacked, who’s going to care when I am?”

“I’m with you, Niki.” Ant replied. “I just want you to stay safe. I want  _ all of you  _ to stay safe. If something happened…”

“Nothing’s going to happen.” Velvet said, reaching for Ant’s hand and taking it in his reassuringly. “We just want to know what’s going on right now.”

“Exactly.” Niki said. “And once we have a little more information, we’ll go from there.”

# # #

Thankfully, for once, everything went according to plan. 

When morning came and the teams returned to the Hubs - looking worse for wear with heavy eyes and low spirits - all nine survivors voted for Ace Race. It was timed, and that meant no one  _ had  _ to die. Of course, there was still risk involved, but if anyone felt too nervous to participate they didn’t have to, and if they changed their minds halfway through then they were able stop whenever they were on the map. That said, no one did. The adrenaline that came from racing was keeping everyone from crumbling under the pressure of everything that was happening, and until they were completely out of harm’s way that adrenaline was very likely to be the difference between life and death.

Quig, HBomb and Krinios took first, second, and third. Tommy and Tubbo - understandably - were much further down the leaderboard, in seventh and ninth respectively, but the competition element to the Championships had almost entirely faded away. No one seemed to care about points or positions any more, people just cared about getting to the end of the competition with their lives. 

It was more than could be said for a number of their friends.

With the end of Ace Race came the final round of voting, and the final round of voting - just as planned - sent the decision towards Sands of Time. It was a more dangerous game than Ace Race was, but right now it was the best option. People could - if they needed to - just run and jump straight through the portal. No one  _ had  _ to compete, no one  _ had  _ to collect coins and venture deep into the catacombs. 

They still did, though.

Technoblade had felt Tubbo lean against him as the timer had ticked down, the rules for the last event being sent to their redstone tablets, and he placed an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders.

“It’s almost over.” Technoblade said, his voice as soft as he could muster up. He still wasn’t used to providing this kind of comfort, but he knew that Tubbo needed him to try. “Before you know it, we’ll be out of here. We’ll be safe.”

“We’ll be in Dodgebolt.” Tubbo whispered, and Technoblade looked down in time to see nervous eyes flickering up to meet his. “We’re going to be in Dodgebolt, I don’t… Techno, I don’t want to kill anyone else. Not again. I can’t do it again.”

“You won’t, Tubbo. I promise.” He said. Tubbo was right about being in Dodgebolt - they were going to be going up against HBomb and Krinios, no one else could catch up while missing so many players - and he hadn’t quite figured out how to find a way out of that situation. The games weren’t timed, and while both teams could simply refuse to shoot it could just mean they were stuck in a limbo forever. He shook his head, physically trying to remove the thoughts from his mind and instead just focus on the present. He’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

“First thing’s first, we need to gather all the sand in this room, add it to the timer, then we’re going to head down that path there.” Technoblade said, holding his sword in his hand and using it to point to a path on the left. “Stick close to me, use the carpet to place a trail behind us so we can get back easily and keep a torch in your hand so we can see.”

Technoblade looked to Tubbo to check he’d understood, and after receiving a less than enthusiastic nod from the younger he decided that it was going to be the best response he got. His mind was probably struggling to cling together right now, fighting back trauma to keep him going until he had a chance to fall, and Technoblade wouldn’t try to push him any further.

“Do you want to go straight through the portal, Tubbo?”

“Not without you.” Tubbo replied. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I’ll be fine if I am, do what makes you feel safest. There’s no point in taking a risk now.”

“I’m staying with you.” Tubbo said firmly, and Technoblade didn’t ask again. The two remained in silence until the countdown ended and the final game began, and in the safety of the main room they split off to gather sand from the edges as quickly as possible. They met in the middle, filling the sand timer to the top, and Technoblade nodded his head over his shoulder to signal that it was time to go: it was time to begin their quest deeper into the crypt.

Technoblade led, as he said he would, the pair down a dark corridor, and Tubbo held a flickering torch in one hand as he placed pieces of carpet down at every turn they made so they could find their way back in a hurry if they needed to. He  _ hoped  _ they didn’t need to. 

Tubbo’s hands were shaking as they walked, the calm and the quiet of the corridor almost causing him more fear than a battle. At least with a battle he’d know what to expect, but right now  _ anything  _ could happen and that was  _ so much worse.  _

He swallowed, hyper aware of the sound of saliva in his mouth, and he tried not to repeat the action. Instead, he listened to their footsteps, echoing around the cold, sandy corridors. In the torch light, it was difficult to see much more than a few paces ahead, and that meant they had to stay quiet to be in with a chance of hearing an enemy and preparing to save themselves. If they waited until they saw one, it would be too late.

Somewhere, deep inside the heart of the tunnels, Tubbo could hear the groans of zombies and his stomach churned: the idea of being ripped apart by one in a place like this was  _ not  _ something he wanted to think about. 

Technoblade seemed unphased, picking up keys and coins from the floor with little concern, and clambering up walls just to reach a pile with a larger bounty. Tubbo would remain at the foot of the obstacles and wait for him to return, bringing the torch closer to the walls and inspecting the sandstone. His fingers ran over the grainy blocks and he found the touch almost soothing.

Almost.

In the blink of an eye, he heard a bow pulling back and shooting, and felt red hot pain searing through his arm. The arrow had landed before he’d even had a moment to process the fact that there  _ was  _ an arrow in the equation, and it had missed his head narrowly. So,  _ so  _ narrowly. Instead of impaling his skull and getting stuck in his brain, the arrow had lodged itself at the join between the phalange of his middle finger and the metacarpal in his palm. 

He wasn’t sure if the inability to move was because of his injury, or because the trauma of this and the last several days had finally caught up to him, but Tubbo was frozen on the spot. He was frozen and he was acutely aware of the fact that whatever had shot this bow at him was  _ still there.  _

He doubted it would miss his head a second time.

So he closed his eyes, and he let out one last shaky breath, and he prayed that whatever happened next his death would be painless and quick. If he had to die, then he wanted it to be over as fast as possible.

# # #

Tommy was alone. He was alone, and he was  _ happy.  _ There was no one now that could creep up on him and join him while he sat beside the sand timer, no one that could notice that something within him had changed. There was no risk of anyone reading his thoughts or overhearing his quiet mutterings to himself, so he let out a laugh. It exploded from his chest breathlessly, it filled the chamber and echoed around him, and he leaned his head as far back as he could.

“I’m going to be okay.” He told himself. “I’m okay. Nothing will hurt me. The Festival of Manburg…” He breathed out slowly, a wide grin spreading on his face. “I don’t even know what that means.”

He shut his eyes for a moment, bringing his hands to his face and rubbing over his features. He’d killed, he’d almost died, he’d been through  _ hell  _ and back over the last few days, but for him there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel, and he was going to run to that light faster than anyone else could. 

“Ugh, God.” He groaned, dragging his feet closer to him and wrapping his arms around his legs. He could see the portal from where he sat, when the sand timer got too low he could make a run for it, but for now at least he wanted to cherish the time he had alone.

It was a pity it didn’t last that much longer.

He heard footsteps walking slowly toward him and he opened his eyes. They were light - sounding as if they’d come from dress shoes rather than heavy combat boots - and he found that he wasn’t scared. Maybe he should have been, he  _ was  _ supposed to be alone after all, but he trusted that whatever, or whoever, was approaching wasn’t going to harm him. The footsteps grew steadily closer, and then they stopped, replaced instead by the shuffling of someone moving to sit beside him on the sand covered planks.

“So, kid…” The voice began, and when Tommy looked to his right he found that his thoughts were confirmed.

He smiled at Schlatt.

“Hello.” He said. A moment passed, and he continued. “Sorry, I don’t know how the fuck to address you.”

“Just call me Schlatt, kiddo.” Schlatt smiled. “You’re not like the rest of them, you don’t need to bother with using my fancy titles or any of that bullshit. In fact, you’ll get a fancy ass title of your own.” He laughed.  _ “Your Imperial Highness, _ that’ll be what people call you. Or you could be a Prince. Which would you prefer?”

“Prince Tommy…” He hummed. “Prince Thomas? No.” Tommy sat back against the stone and thought. “I like  _ Imperial Highness.  _ It sounds special.”

“Yeah, well it is special. You’re a special kid. You think I’d want just anyone as my heir?” Schlatt chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He snuck a hand around Tommy’s shoulders and pulled him a little closer, a move that Tommy found made him feel  _ safe.  _ “No, Tommy. I picked you for a reason.”

There was a moment of silence as Tommy looked at Schlatt expectantly, silently conveying that he’d like to  _ know  _ what that reason was.

“You’re young, you’re strong, you’ve got a good gut and you go with what it tells you. There’s something in your blood that just makes you  _ different,  _ y’know? You’re better than everyone else here, you always have been, and they thought you were gonna be an easy target because you were young. They underestimated you, but I’m not an idiot, I’m not gonna do that. I’m gonna give you what you need to be even stronger, kid. I’m gonna make our Empire so much more powerful, so much  _ bigger,  _ and I’m gonna do it all for you. Everything you’ve ever wanted - and anything you’ll ever want in the future - it’s all yours kid. You don’t have to do anything for it, just follow my lead and listen and learn.”

“I can do that.” Tommy said, a little out of breath as he spoke. Sure, Scott had given him a pitch when he’d first been informed of what was going on, but Schlatt wasn’t giving him a pitch, he wasn’t trying to  _ sell him  _ on the idea he’d already agreed to. No, Schlatt was just talking to him, Schlatt was just telling him the truth, and he smiled. “Thank you.”

“You don’t gotta thank me, kid. When I need you to do something, I just need you to trust me and do it. But I tell you what, first thing we’ll do when this is all over and you’re downloaded from the server? We’ll get those fuckin’ braces off, and we’ll get you some proper clothes. Somethin’ a little more regal.”

“Can I keep the red?”

“Can you keep the red.” Schlatt scoffed, shaking his head and bringing a hand to his face to wipe away a mock tear. “Kid, you’re gonna fit in brilliantly.” He said, patting Tommy’s shoulder firmly twice. “Now, I gotta go, I’ve got a few more things to set up okay? I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Thanks, Schlatt.” Tommy said, watching as the man beside him moved to his feet.

“No problem, kid.” Schlatt replied, offering the boy a wink and shoving his hands into his pockets before he disappeared entirely.

If Tommy thought he’d been safe before, then he was sorely mistaken.  _ Now  _ he felt safe, he felt reassured, and whatever was going to happen next he knew he had Schlatt - and the Empire - at his side to protect him.

# # #

The Aqua Axolotls and the Pink Parrots were the only other teams of two left in the game. Sands of Time was easy enough to play with four, with three it became increasingly difficult, with two it was hard and alone it was damn near impossible to make any real progress. Sapnap and Quig both competed alone, and had both made a similar decision: gather all the coins from the centre, and get out as quickly as possible. There was no reason to linger, no reason to take any risk, no reason to even gather those coins, really, but they were the first two to emerge. 

HBomb and Krinios took it in turns to venture out a little. Krinios went first, giving HBomb time to clear the centre room of coins and fill up the sand timer, and when he returned with a couple of burns to his hands they swapped. It was an efficient method that allowed them to both score  _ something  _ for the game, while still staying relatively safe. 

They each made it out with a little over four hundred and fifty coins, and they smiled a little when they saw Quig and Sapnap already safe. 

Tommy stumbled through a short while after them, leaving only the Pink Parrots and Green Guardians still inside. No one was particularly worried about this: they were both teams of two, and both competent. Even if this was Tubbo’s first time, he was on a team with Technoblade, there was no concern for him.

When the Pink Parrots emerged with about five hundred coins each, all that was left was to sit and wait for Technoblade and Tubbo to emerge.

# # # 

An arrow ricocheting off a shield wasn’t what Tubbo expected to hear, and when he did he felt a relieved whimper leaving his lips involuntarily. He wanted to be brave, he  _ wanted  _ to keep it together, but he’d been so close to death and saved  _ again  _ by Technoblade that he simply couldn’t hold it back any longer. He heard the grumbles of a Pillager annoyed that it had missed its shot, then he heard the pained sounds of a Pillager being killed, then the clattering of a sword and a shield against the ground as Technoblade ran back to Tubbo’s side with worry in his eyes, but a face otherwise utterly void of emotion.

Tubbo was almost jealous that he was able to so easily push his fears and worries aside. He presumed that was how he’d made it through this far without coming even close to shedding a tear.

“I need you to move, Tubbo.” Technoblade instructed. “We need to get back to the middle and go.”

“I can’t.” He croaked quietly. “I can’t move, go without me.”

There was a moment, a horrible moment, where Technoblade looked to be considering Tubbo’s words. He didn’t  _ want  _ to be abandoned in the labyrinth of sandstone, and his heart sunk in his chest. 

“I can’t move my hand.” Tubbo said, trying to change the subject. “The arrow--”

Technoblade moved then, bringing his head closer to the injury to examine it for a moment before he spoke up again.

“You can move it.” He said. “If you really think you can’t, I can chop it off.”

“T-the arrow?” Tubbo asked hopefully.

“The finger.” Technoblade told him.

Tubbo’s eyes widened, his skin paled, and for a moment he felt as if his vision disappeared completely. He felt his legs sagging beneath him for a split second, but two arms wrapped around him and held him upright before he could properly fall. He didn’t want to lose his finger, but he couldn’t move. 

“I need you to try, please, Tubbo.” Technoblade said, his voice worryingly close to showing emotion. “I don’t want to cause you any more pain, you have to at least  _ try  _ to move it. It’s all in your head.”

“It’s not, it’s  _ not  _ in my head. My hand is  _ stuck.”  _ He protested, his breathing becoming a little faster as he started to panic. “S-so just cut it off, or leave me here, but don’t just  _ stand there.  _ Make a decision!”

Technoblade sighed, shaking his head. He could be ruthless when he needed to be, but even  _ he  _ didn’t like the idea of amputating a man as young as Tubbo. He didn’t underestimate the boy - he couldn’t after everything they’d been through - and he knew that he was entirely capable of moving.

But he also knew that the sand timer stopped for no one, and if they wanted to make it out, he had to act. There was no telling if the usual mechanics of the game still existed, when people were dying and not respawning putting faith into the norm was worthless. Sure, the timer could hit zero and they could be teleported from the maze and into a cage, but they could also be trapped for eternity with no chance of ever escaping. They’d die a slow, painful death as they starved - or they could find themselves a room full of Blazes and hope that they’d at least go quickly.

He wouldn’t take that risk, not when Tubbo was relying on him to make the right choice.

“I’m so sorry.” Technoblade whispered, turning his back on Tubbo and walking away from him. He could hear the young man’s breath hitch in his throat, as if he  _ truly believed  _ that he was being left behind. When he picked up his sword, he heard a quiet sob, and he forced himself to muster up a smile. 

“You’ll be okay.” Technoblade said, trying his damndest to sound reassuring even as he approached the boy with the metal blade. “I’ll carry you back. Once this is done, if you need to just pass out, that’s okay." 

A non committal hum came from Tubbo as he closed his eyes, and Technoblade lined the tip of the blade up with the joint of his finger, just a little below the arrow. He didn’t want to hurt Tubbo anymore than he had to, so he moved the other fingers away just a little and took in a breath.

“I’ll count down from three, okay?”

“Okay.”

“One… Two…”

He pushed with all his might, sending the sword through his skin, nerves, and joints with a horrible  _ crunch  _ that he swore he’d hear until his life ended. Tubbo let out a scream, and Technoblade felt it reverberate in his ribcage. He’d killed before, he’d hurt people before, he’d done things far more  _ horrible  _ than this, but those things had never had consequences, there had been no repercussions for himself or for whoever he’d harmed. This was different. Nausea clung to him, twisting his stomach into knots as Tubbo’s eyes began to open.

“Don’t look.” He instructed, tearing off the end of his cloak to have at least  _ something  _ to wrap around Tubbo’s hand like a bandage, trying to stem the bleeding until they were in a situation where he could find a health potion or something better than a dirty old cloak. He had been moving slowly and carefully at first, trying to cause as little pain as possible, when he heard it.

The sound of a ticking clock echoing around them.

In the heat of it all, Technoblade had forgotten how high he’d counted. He didn’t know how many  _ ticks  _ were left, how much more sand was left in the timer, but he feared the worst. He didn’t want to find out what happened if they didn’t make it out in time - especially not now he’d cut off Tubbo’s finger specifically so they  _ didn’t  _ have to find out - so he moved faster. Tubbo cried out in pain with every motion that Technoblade made, but he forced himself to ignore it. He couldn’t risk going slowly anymore.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo.” He whispered when the cries became quieter, and he offered the man a gentle look when he finally tied a knot into the fabric. He looked utterly exhausted, the bags under his eyes so much more prevalent while he was so pale, and he made no move to object when Technoblade shifted his arms beneath his shoulders and knees to scoop him up into his arms.

“Just hang tight, deep breaths, if you need to sleep then that’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe, I  _ swear  _ I’ll keep you safe.”

He didn’t like to think about how many times that promise had nearly been broken, but Tubbo  _ was  _ still alive. He  _ had  _ done his job properly. He tried to focus on that as he followed the carpet back to the centre of the maze, feet moving quickly and speeding up whenever he heard a tick. He cursed going so deep in, cursed still trying to score well even though he was supposed to be keeping Tubbo safe, even though it was going to make no difference to the standings whatsoever. As he ran, he heard the sounds of mobs approaching, and he tucked the boy closer to his chest. Tubbo had, at some point, fallen unconscious, and Technoblade held him much more protectively as he noticed that. 

He’d been so selfish, he’d put Tubbo in this situation, and he’d failed him. He failed him just like he’d failed everyone that they’d lost in Hole in the Wall, he’d failed him like he’d failed Tommy when Dream had tried to drown him. 

There were only nine of them left, he couldn’t let the timer reach zero and that number drop to seven.

When the sand timer was finally in view, another tick echoed, and his heart was in his throat. The corridor between them and the portal was long, as they were barely any sand left to drain. Once it disappeared completely, they were in trouble.

Technoblade pushed himself now. He adjusted his hold on Tubbo to help him run faster, he dropped his shovel and sword to try and lighten the load, and he ran until his legs began to cry out in pain. He was exhausted from the weight of everything on his shoulders and his body was threatening to break when he needed it most, but it wasn’t over yet.

The corridor was blissfully empty of mobs - a few zombies were visible in a room to his right but he paid them no mind and had run far from them by the time they even realised there was someone to attack - and he made it to the end, bursting from the darkness into light with a breath of relief leaving his lips. Despite the fact that he felt safe, he didn't stop running. He couldn’t let himself rejoice in the fact that he’d made it back to the middle in time, because being in the middle meant nothing. The important part was getting through the portal.

He turned so sharply that he truly believed he was going to roll his ankle just feet from the portal and that he and Tubbo would watch as their chance to escape vanished, but luck seemed to be on his side when his body pushed through the pain he felt. Just a few more steps, that was all it would take for the two of them to make it through the portal. It was purple, shining, and tantalizingly close,  _ he could make it. _

The last few grains of sand trickled from the bottom of the timer, and Technoblade heard a haunting tick.

The lights of the centre room went out, and the purple glow of the portal faded to nothing. He ran through the obsidian frame with Tubbo still in his arms, only to keep running on the same sandstone surface on the other side. His heart dropped in his chest and all he could hear for the briefest of moments was the sound of his own breathing and the distant sounds of mobs that became more adventurous now that the torchlight had vanished.

“Tubbo…” Technoblade whispered, turning around to lean his back against the wall of the arena and drop to the ground with the boy still in his arms. He closed his eyes, holding his unconscious body close, and the movement seemed to stir the boy awake once more. Technoblade was sure that Tubbo had figured out what had happened - even  _ if  _ he’d been suffering from blood loss, he wasn’t stupid, he’d pick it up quickly enough. He supposed that was why the young man wrapped his arms around him tightly, and for once in his life Technoblade accepted the embrace without thought. 

If they were going to die, he wasn’t going to die alone.

“Techno! Tubbo!” 

He opened his eyes, and the darkness was replaced with a sudden light. Their names were being shouted by the other survivors - their  _ friends  _ \- from the other side of iron bars. They hadn’t been condemned to dying in the crypt, they’d been shown a mercy by someone - by a God, by the server owners, by some lucky glitch that had been on their side - and Technoblade let himself laugh a little, nudging Tubbo to help him to sit up and look around at his friends.

People wanted to know what had happened, and rightly so, but neither of the Green Guardians spoke. The relief that they’d made it out was too overwhelming.

And then, all at once, that relief vanished. Smiles were replaced with fear, joy replaced with dread, and even the realisation seemed to spread from within the cage to the Aqua Axolotls first, and then to everyone watching.

They were going to Dodgebolt.

# # #

The shutdown came to an end in the early afternoon, and after forty-eight hours of isolation people began to slowly step back out onto the streets. There was an air of caution around those that  _ did  _ dare to venture outside, and an increased military presence on near constant patrol reminded people that whatever was happening wasn’t entirely over yet. Ant and Velvet had returned to their own homes, Niki made soup for herself, Bad and Skeppy, and she set about finding space for the two of them to stay. She’d moved some of her clothes into her old bedroom - the apartment above the bakery having remained the same for generations - and she insisted that the two of them take the larger bed: it made more sense than one of them taking the sofa and the other sleeping on her childhood bed. 

Once the two had retired for the night, Niki immediately set about carrying out her plan. She hadn’t voiced this plan to any of her friends, which might have been a mistake, but she just couldn’t have them trying to talk her out of it. Or worse,  _ stopping her.  _ She did, at least, scribble down a short note on paper and leave it on the kitchen surface, just in case she didn’t make it back. 

Niki pulled a thick, dark piece of fabric over her head - a brown wool poncho with a hood that would cover most of her face - and took an old lantern from inside one of her many cluttered cupboards before pulling on a pair of boots. She considered taking a weapon with her, but decided against it. For now, she was just a curious woman, and that wasn’t illegal. No one else needed to know her plans. With that final thought, she began to head out into the night.

Being from L’Manburg, having a direct connection to the people that once fought for this nation, Niki knew a thing or two about the country. She tried to avoid the irony she felt as she wandered the desolate streets, tried to stop thinking about how poetic it was that her ancestors had once fought for freedom and dug the series of underground tunnels she was now looking to gain access to. She tried to tread gently on the cobblestone paths, not wanting heavy footsteps to give her away. The fact that the military patrols seemed to take place in groups meant that - no matter what - she had warning of their arrival. She could turn off the light from her lantern and scarper to hide in the shadows of the night, only emerging once their footsteps had faded away entirely. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she found the old building. It had been built just after the war, and somehow the wood hadn’t rotted away and the stone hadn’t crumbled despite being left in disarray for decades. A number of people believed that it was haunted by the General that had led L’Manburg to freedom, and that his presence was the only thing that kept the building standing. Niki wasn’t sure if she believed in ghosts, but she still knocked on the door before entering: it was only polite.

“Oh, if you could see me now General…” She whispered quietly. “I hope you’d be proud.”

The building was abandoned, there was nothing and no one to stop her from lifting the hatch that accessed the sewers, and so she clambered down the rungs slowly. The hatch closed with a heavy thud that echoed through the sewers themselves, but they were blissfully empty. Even if the country she loved was being threatened from within, the military would never think to check the sewers. 

Turning her lantern back on, she held it out in front of her and watched as silverfish scurried away. Not having a weapon on her made her quest a little riskier, but she didn’t want to be in even more trouble if she was caught. With that in mind, she began to walk, not wanting to linger in one spot for too long just in case something got a little braver. 

It didn’t take long to be out of the sewers and in the underground system of tunnels - something that her nose was  _ incredibly  _ thankful for - and then she was able to move quickly and with purpose. She’d explored these tunnels enough in her youth, she knew the quickest way to get from the centre of L’Manburg to the border. The further she walked, the worse the state of the tunnel, and by the time she’d covered several miles underground the flat paths had been replaced with a rocky, unfinished surface. Plant life - somehow - seemed to be thriving, and Niki found herself slowing down so as not to slip on mossy cobblestone, and pushing aside cobwebs big enough to leave her shuddering just  _ imagining  _ the size of the spiders that had made them. 

She felt like she’d been walking for another thirty minutes when the infrastructure improved, and in the distance she could see the telltale fluorescent lighting that meant there was an outpost. She’d made it to the border, crossing it was illegal without the proper paperwork anyway and she doubted that Schlatt’s sudden authoritarian rule was going to make it any  _ more  _ legal. Niki turned off her lantern, hiding herself against the wall of the tunnel as she listened. She tried to hear if there was anyone present, or if the military had been relocated for the time being, and she forced her breathing to remain quiet and steady.

She hadn’t come all this way for nothing.

“Head on up to the surface.” She heard a voice speak, and her heart almost jumped out of the chest at the sound. Her hand shot up to cover her own mouth to keep herself from reacting, and she breathed through her nose with wide eyes. 

“I’ll keep an eye out down here.” The voice continued. “Get some fresh air, come back down when shifts are switching to help handover.”

“Yes, Captain.” A lower pitched voice replied, and one set of footsteps moved quickly against the ground until they faded away completely, and the Captain let out a sigh. 

Niki let herself lean forwards just a little, and she could have cried with relief at what she saw.

No longer keeping herself hidden, no longer worrying about remaining in the shadows, she broke out into a sprint and even dared to smile. The Captain, naturally, heard footsteps from the tunnel and reacted swiftly, turning with a loaded and cocked gun in her hands to point at the intruder until their eyes locked and the soldier’s expression relaxed. 

“Niki?” The gun was decocked and holstered, and a look of fear and relief appeared on the Captain’s face as she began to run.

“Minx!” Niki smiled widely. “You have  _ no idea  _ how glad I am to see you right now!”

“Niki, oh my God! What the  _ feck  _ is going on?” 

“It’s a very long story, and I’m not sure if I know it all.” Niki said breathlessly, feeling her body collide with Niki’s and warm,  _ safe  _ arms wrapping around her. An old friend, someone she trusted, and someone outside of Schlatt’s control. 

“I’ve got a flask with some tea in. The tea is yours if you’ll tell me what the  _ hell  _ is happening in L’Manburg.”

Niki nodded, waiting for a moment longer before pulling out of the embrace and looking at her friend. 

“L’Manburg is gone.” Niki whispered. “Schlatt is planning something, I have to stop him. I need your help.”

“Come on.” Minx said, a hand resting on Niki’s shoulder to pull her into a small, reinforced room with a ladder that led to the surface. “Sit down. Tell me everything you know, we can figure this out. Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well
> 
> i'm sure this is going to go well...


	13. Dodgebolt

Dodgebolt. 

As the survivors were returned to the Hub for one last time, night having fallen on the server, five could breathe a sigh of relief that they were  _ safe.  _ For Sapnap, Quig, Tommy, Mefs, and fWhip there was no more danger on the server - not unless they decided to throw themselves into the lava beneath the Dodgebolt platform, anyway. For Technoblade, Tubbo, HBomb, and Krinios, Dodgebolt lingered hauntingly ahead of them. It was a tense game at the best of times - it was the event that decided the victor of the Championships - but the stakes were higher than before: falling into lava didn’t mean respawning; getting hit in the chest with an arrow didn’t mean you’d just appear at the sidelines…

Everyone was silent. The usual ambient sounds that were played to make the server feel  _ real  _ even seemed to have come to a stop. 

The weight of it all was crushing, and Tubbo was certain he could feel it in his chest. It made breathing difficult, it made him feel too weak to stand up and move, and it made it impossible for him to hold back the words that fell from his lips just moments later.

“I don’t want to die.”

He felt all eyes on him as he broke the silence, and after a moment footsteps began to approach him. The way the gravel moved beneath Sapnap’s feet - crunching and scraping against itself - was almost  _ calming.  _ And when Sapnap came to a stop, lowering his body to sit beside him and wrap an arm around his shoulders, he felt grounded. 

Right now, he was safe. He only had a few more minutes of guaranteed safety ahead of him, he wanted to enjoy it.

For all he knew, they could be the last moments of his life.

“Tubbo can’t shoot.” Technoblade said flatly. “He’s missing a finger. I’d appreciate it if the two of you aim for me, not him.”

“That’s not how Dodgebolt works, and you know it.” Krinios pointed out. “I don’t know how we end this without hurting each other.”

“We can’t.” HBomb said. “We don’t have to kill each other, we can aim for parts of our body that’ll cause less damage.”

“And we can give you our jackets.” Mefs piped up. “It’s not much, but an extra layer of fabric on your arms might lessen the pain.”

“You’re not gonna die, Tubbo.” Sapnap said reassuringly, and the younger looked to him as he took in a deep breath. He wasn’t going to die, no one was, they’d made it this far, everything would be  _ okay.  _ They’d play Dodgebolt, they’d win or they’d lose, and they’d be automatically downloaded. Maybe they’d find out that everyone they’d lost along the way had been downloaded, maybe the glitch with the system was just reuniting people with their bodies in the real world when they died.

Maybe everything was going to be  _ fine.  _

“No hard feelings, whatever happens, right?” HBomb asked. “None of us want to kill the other, heck, none of us even want to  _ hurt  _ the other, but if anyone makes a mistake--”

“No hard feelings.” Technoblade agreed.

And like that, the group were plunged back into silence. Tubbo glanced towards Tommy, trying to meet his eyes, trying to get his attention, but the boy just looked away. He didn’t know what to do, what to say or even how to feel, but his heart shattered in his chest. He wanted Tommy at his side - he wanted his best friend to reassure him - and while his reluctance to even look in his direction hurt, Tubbo couldn’t find it in himself to be angry at him. They’d all experienced various horrors in a short space of time, and Tommy reacting differently than everyone else wasn’t his fault. When this was all over, when they were redownloaded, when they were safe, Tubbo swore he’d go to Tommy and pull him into the tightest hug imaginable and he’d  _ never  _ let go. 

He clung on to the hope he had that all of that would happen soon.

It wasn’t long before his surroundings changed. Normally, after two events, the teams would retire for the evening and resume the next day, but the Dodgebolt final duel was always played in the evenings. Tubbo could remember begging his parents to let him stay up late and watch when he was younger, but he forced himself to shake the thought from his head. The last thing he needed, right now, was to think about home. He could think about his parents when he was back in the real world, dream about being reunited with them and being safe in their arms when he wasn’t going to be in the final duel. Right now, he needed to focus. He couldn’t shoot, but that was only half of Dodgebolt. He was still entirely capable of moving out of the way of arrows and keeping himself in the game long enough for Technoblade to tag both HBomb and Krinios. 

The arena itself was set up the same way it normally was. There were still flags available for spectators to pick the team they would be cheering on, still rows of seats to give the illusion of a real stadium, and Tubbo still heard the familiar music playing out around them. It was eerie, in a way. Normally the place was full of people and the music would be somewhat muffled, but with so few people still alive it echoed around the walls. 

It felt like he’d stepped into a horror movie.

One of the first things that Tubbo realised - something he’d never really thought about when watching on from home - was that he was  _ hot.  _ The heat that radiated from the lava below was stifling, and he’d immediately begun to sweat. By the time he lifted his hand to his forehead to try and wipe the sweat away, his hand was wet, and he realised that there was no point in even trying. Not when the survivors were throwing their own jackets down onto the arena, giving the four of them an extra layer to keep them safe against the sharp heads of the arrows. Naturally, Tubbo picked up Tommy’s jacket and slipped it over his own. He turned to meet Technoblade’s gaze, struggling to swallow any oxygen from the hot, heavy air that surrounded him, and he gave his teammate a thumbs up. He was ready as he’d ever be.

Tubbo was beyond glad in the moment that he didn’t have to worry about firing any arrows - he was almost glad he’d lost his finger - because he didn’t think he had the energy to run and dodge  _ and  _ think about shooting arrows without killing his friends. He was beyond relieved that this would be the last game, because his body was almost entirely worn out. 

The countdown sounded in his earpiece: three, two, one; and Dodgebolt had begun.

Technoblade ran forward to grab the arrow on their half of the court, and HBomb did the same. Then began a waiting game: one that was excruciating to watch and take part in. Either HBomb or Technoblade had to shoot first, and so far neither man had nocked their arrow. Neither side remained perfectly still, but no one made any particularly evasive movements. Technoblade and HBomb continued their staring match, both falsely reaching for their bows on a number of occasions to try and slip the other up, and then came the warning sounds that the arena was about to shrink. As HBomb, Krinios, and Tubbo moved closer to the middle, Technoblade grabbed his bow, nocked it, and launched the arrow towards the remaining Axolotls in one swift motion. 

Krinios was hit on the arm, hissing lightly, before disappearing from the arena. He appeared in the stands with the others, who were quick to come together at his side. The arrow that had tagged him had dropped from his body onto the arena beside HBomb when he’d disappeared, and he reached for it as the floor around the edges vanished. If it had been hot before, now it was utterly overwhelming. Tubbo spared a glance up to the six watching from the sidelines and he could see Tommy looking up into the stands - though from the angle Tubbo was at he couldn’t see what Tommy did. 

“Move, kid.” Technoblade encouraged, pulling him out of his mind and focusing him on the task at hand once more. HBomb had both arrows and had drawn his bow back, lining up his shot as both Tubbo and Technoblade dodged. They had to keep their movements erratic, and despite the oppressive heat that consumed them both they had to keep their movements constant. If they stopped, HBomb would have an easy shot. Even as he held his bow steady it was impossible to know where he was going to shoot - he could move at the last second, he could remove the arrow and move elsewhere in the arena, he held  _ all  _ the cards and both men knew that as they moved. Technoblade, an experienced Dodgebolt player, moved with precision and purpose. Tubbo, brand new and injured, was much slower, much more sluggish. 

It was no surprise when HBomb’s arrow lodged itself in his shoulder, he barely even realised he’d been hit until he was looking down on the arena rather than moving around within it.

“Tommy?” He managed to say, and this time instead of avoiding him further his friend came into his field of vision, concern on his face, and his arms wrapped tightly around him. 

He felt so safe as he buried his head into Tommy’s chest.

“You okay, big man?” Tommy asked, and Tubbo nodded. “It’s almost over. Everything will be over soon.”

“What were you looking at?” Tubbo asked, shifting his head so he could see Tommy’s reaction. He looked up just in time to see him swallow, just in time to feel his hold loosen a little.

“Nothing.” Tommy’s voice was tense, a whisper, and Tubbo knew it was a lie. But he also knew that he wasn’t to ask any further questions, so he didn’t. He stayed quiet, not wanting to say anything that would risk losing the embrace of his best friend entirely while the end of the first round played out. Arrows flew back and forth across the arena until, eventually, Technoblade tagged HBomb. 

When Tubbo faded from his arms, Tommy looked back over his shoulder again to see Schlatt sitting in the stands, his arms crossed over his chest and feet on the back of the chair in front of him. He offered the teenager a reassuring smile, and Tommy smiled back. With Schlatt there,  _ everything  _ would be okay. Whatever happened, he trusted that the man would find a way to make it work out in the end.

It was why, when he looked back into the arena just in time to see HBomb land a shot on Technoblade, he didn’t flinch the way the others did. 

Everything was going according to plan.

It had taken the others by surprise - and it had taken Tubbo by surprise too. The young man’s breath hitched in his throat as, for the second time that day, the floor began to disappear at the edges.

Both arrows were on his side, he had to do  _ something.  _

So with his right hand he reached over his shoulder and grabbed his bow, trying not to let his mind linger on the oncoming pain he was going to be in. He’d have to deal with it enough in a moment, he didn’t need to think about it  _ now,  _ too.

Picking up one arrow, Tubbo fumbled to nock it into place. It was a difficult action to do when both his hands were shaking and his lungs just didn’t want to take in any air, and it wasn’t made any easier when he could hear voices screaming at him to take a step forwards or he would be falling into the lava, but he did as they said and eventually he had his arrow notched in the right place. 

He took a breath before preparing to draw the string back, looking across the arena to see that HBomb and Krinios were both standing perfectly still. Tubbo didn’t know if it was for his sake of theirs, but as he took up the correct stance and brought his two still-attached fingers to the bow, he decided it was  _ both.  _ Aiming like this was damn near impossible and if they’d both been trying to dodge he’d either miss or hit something important. Beyond that, simply holding the bow hurt like hell. His right hand burned, and the sensation seemed to continue all the way up his arm as his two fingers were overworked and strained to pull the string back, and the nerves that had once been attached to his middle finger were feeling nothing and too much all at once.

Tubbo barely managed to hold the bowstring back for seconds before he let go, and it sailed far past Krinios. He wasn’t  _ surprised  _ that it hadn’t hit a target, but he was still disappointed in himself.

If he’d had all his fingers, maybe it would’ve been a different story.

At least Krinios was quick to tag him, putting him out of his misery and saving him taking another painful shot. But it meant that the teams were now drawing, 1-1, and there were still  _ at least  _ another two rounds to play.

The third round went much more smoothly for the Green Guardians. Technoblade fired the first arrow, taking out HBomb, Krinios fired the second, hitting Tubbo, and Technoblade tagged Krinios before he even had the chance to nock his final arrow.

The Green Guardians were 2-1 up, the event was almost over. Winning barely even felt as if it mattered now, but Tubbo couldn’t help but think that if he  _ did  _ win in circumstances like these he’d be all the more praised for his efforts. It was a nice thought to cling to - a  _ normal  _ thought to cling to - and so he let himself smile as he entered the arena for a fourth time.

HBomb rolled beneath a shot that Technoblade fired, the ground closed in. Heat washed over the players, sweat made it more difficult to hold the bows steady as they aimed up their shots, and stress was getting to them all. Both teams were missing, the area was getting smaller, Tubbo wondered for a split second if whatever had happened to make the games so deadly would occur here, too, and the arena would vanish entirely, leaving the four of them swimming in lava.

Technoblade finally got a shot on Krinios, but HBomb immediately retaliated by taking out Tubbo. There was another back and forth, the eyes of the seven survivors - and the one almost entirely unnoticed guest - were on the two. Everyone was silent, the popping of the lava felt distant when the sound of blood pumping through their ears was so deafeningly loud.

HBomb had both arrows. He aimed for Technoblade’s left arm and missed, and when he aimed for his right Technoblade ducked just in time. 

Technoblade had both arrows. He aimed for HBomb’s right arm, then his left, tracking his every move for a minute to try and trick him into making a mistake. Sweat was dripping nearly constantly from his forehead, he wasn’t sure when he’d last taken in a gulp of air, he could feel the drawstring cutting into the skin of his fingers as he kept on holding.

He fired.

His shot landed on HBomb’s shoulder, tagging the man, sending him to stand with the other spectators at the side.

_ The Green Guardians had won MCC.  _

No one cheered, no one applauded, the loudest sound that could be heard was that of Technoblade dropping to his knees in the arena and putting his head in his hands. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and let out a groan of pain, relief, misery, mourning and joy.

It was over.

But, if it was over, why had nothing changed? Why were they still there? Still listening to the lava? Still standing in the arena? Why weren’t they in the Hub? Why weren’t they going home?

Why weren’t they waking up from this nightmare?

Silent glances were exchanged between the eight on the side, and the conversation they seemed to be having was interrupted by the sound of slow, methodical footsteps down stairs.

“Well, gentlemen.” Schlatt began, a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets. “Did you  _ really  _ think that it was all over?”

The crowd turned to face him, Technoblade was on his feet in a moment, and Schlatt could do nothing but smile. Eight of them looked at him with something between confusion and hatred, one looked at him with adoration. His beloved protege, his heir, with faith in his eyes… Schlatt offered him a smile, earning Tommy a glance from Tubbo, and he descended the last few stairs with a little more pep in his step.

“I suppose it  _ would  _ make sense that you’d think that. This is Minecraft Championships, you’ve played it before, you’ve seen it before, this is nothing new. Even with all the little changes I’ve added, it’s still the same game.” He laughed, the laughter causing his smile to widen into a grin that flashed his teeth as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “Well, if I’m honest, I expected better from you. I  _ hoped  _ for better from you. It’s been a little boring seeing you all so damn  _ hopeful  _ that this would come to an end when the games did. But, not to worry, means we get to have more fun now!” 

“What have you done?” Sapnap demanded, and Schlatt smirked.

“Ooh, the Ocelot speaks first.  _ Roar,  _ kitty cat.” He removed one hand from his pocket - flashing the contrasting orange lining of his purple suit - and made a clawing motion with his fingers. “Don’t get your whiskers in a twist, we don’t know how many of your nine lives you’ve got left.”

“What the  _ fuck  _ have you done?” Technoblade yelled, and Schlatt took a step back, his free hand coming to his chest to mock Technoblade as he took in a gasp.

“You’re  _ cursing?  _ Technoblade, Techno,  _ Tech,  _ I thought you had more  _ dignity.  _ There’s kids listening, don’t you know?” He asked, gesturing towards Tommy, Tubbo, and Quig. 

“Kids that’ve murdered, kids that’ve almost drowned, kids that’ve had their fingers cut off and watched their best friends and idols die. Yeah. There’s kids here.” 

“You’ve got bite, I  _ like  _ you. But then again, I knew I liked you.” Schlatt smiled. “You should come a little closer, Technoblade. Join the group. It’s much more fun when I don’t have to shout at you.”

Technoblade’s response came in the form of an arrow that hurtled through the arena, but Schlatt didn’t even blink when it embedded itself in his chest. All he did was raise an eyebrow and pull the offending weapon out of him, casting it aside like it was nothing.

“I changed my mind, clearly you’re a fuckin’ idiot. You think I’d tamper with this game just to join myself and put myself in danger? C’mon, use that brain of yours.” There was a beat, and then Technoblade appeared at the side of the others. His breathing was heavy and loud, he smelled utterly putrid, and as he shrugged off his jackets and cloak to try and lighten the load on his shoulders Schlatt let out another boisterous laugh.

“You look like you’re about to fight me.”

“Maybe I am.” Technoblade muttered. “You know they call me the  _ Blood God,  _ and you know they don’t call me that for nothing.”

“Well I’d like to see you try, really, I would. I might even ask the admins to put me in gamemode so I can take the punches.” He paused for a moment, bringing a hand to his face and letting the tips of his fingers run over his mutton chops as if he thought. “But, Technoblade, I think you’ll find that I quite enjoy doing  _ this.”  _

And with what seemed to be no more than a click of his fingers, the bows that the Aqua Axolotls and Green Guardians held vanished, and the arrows that had been used during Dodgebolt were gone. In that same moment, Schlatt had a netherite sword, a crossbow, and a firework attached at his side.

“Still want to fight me, pig boy?”

There was silence. Technoblade raised an arm, placing his hand on Tubbo’s chest and taking a determined step forward. Schlatt looked entertained as the man raised his head, and he stepped up the staircase just to keep a height advantage over him.

“Let them go.” Technoblade hissed. “Do whatever the hell you want to do to me, but let them go. They’ve suffered enough.”

“Oh, Techno, I’ve already got you!” Schlatt laughed. “Actually, I’ve got all of you. You’re all unconscious, hooked up to Manburg’s healthcare systems while your minds are part of the server. I think you’ll find that letting them go - and doing what I want with you - isn’t a special offer. It’s not lucrative. It’s not something I’m going to immediately agree to. I  _ already  _ have you all.”

“Let them go.” Technoblade repeated. “Or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Ooh, chills,  _ actual chills.”  _ Schlatt said, shaking his shoulders and kicking one of his legs forward. “You should’ve been an actor, Technoblade, you’ve really got the voice for sounding threatening when you really  _ aren’t.  _ If you were an actor, you probably wouldn’t even  _ be  _ in this situation. But, since you seem so keen to offer yourself up to me, why don’t you take a step forward? We can settle this like men.”

Technoblade didn’t move, and Schlatt’s eyes left him only for a moment as he looked instead at Tommy. He hummed to himself, sighing, before turning on his right foot and hopping two more steps up the staircase.

“One of you is a liar.” Schlatt said. “A fantastic one, at that, but a liar all the same.”

When no one spoke, he turned back to face them.

“Anyone ever tell you guys you’re a shit audience?”

Still nothing. 

“You’re not even gonna try to guess who, standing among you all, is on my side?”

When Tubbo looked to Tommy and Tommy swallowed nervously, he smiled. It wasn’t much, but he could see the seeds of doubt starting to be sown in Tubbo’s mind. He would be  _ excellent.  _

“Tommy, kid, how about you come up here? Stand beside me.” 

The rest of the crowd joined Tubbo in looking at Tommy, and the youngest could feel each and every one of their stares. A shiver ran down his spine as he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. He was doing the right thing, right? Maybe they couldn’t see that, but they hadn’t been presented with all the facts yet. Either he died with them, or he lived with Schlatt. If they were in his position, they’d have picked the same thing.

He stepped away from them, feeling Tubbo’s fingers brush against his own momentarily before he’d moved too far for him to reach. Despite Schlatt only being three steps up the staircase, it felt like he was climbing a mountain to join him. His legs ached, his feet felt like lead weights were tied to his ankles, and his breath was stuck in his throat.

“That’s a good kid.” Schlatt praised gently, a hand moving to cup Tommy’s chin and force him to look up, the two of them making eye contact. “I’m so proud of you.”

Tommy nodded, taking his place at Schlatt’s side and staring back down at his fellow competitors. Competitors, not friends, he had to remind himself of that. If he called them his friends, then standing at Schlatt’s side would be so much more painful… But Schlatt was the one that could help him. Schlatt was the one that would protect him. Schlatt was the one he trusted. He turned to face the man beside him - the Emperor - and he saw the exasperated look on his face as he began to speak - explaining himself to a crowd that wanted more answers than he was willing to provide.

“You were uploaded to the servers, as usual, and back in the real world I’ve been working very hard with my dear friends, Noxite and Scott, to put a few changes in place. Firstly, L’Manburg is now Manburg, and it’s an Empire rather than a country. Secondly, Tommy here is my heir, and everything will be his when I’m gone. What can I say, he reminds me of the son I always wanted.” He smiled, turning to look at Tommy. “Glad I finally got him.” He paused for a moment, one arm moving to pat Tommy on the shoulder. “And, finally, I’m going to make my Empire the strongest that anyone has ever seen before - but I need the help of you all. It starts right here, right now, and I know just who my first little guinea pig will be.” 

“How does it start with us?” Technoblade asked, Schlatt’s eyes glancing down to his tightening fists with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know.” He winked. “Now!” Schlatt announced, raising his voice slightly and turning to look at Tommy. “I might have told a tincy wincy lie earlier, kid, when I said you wouldn’t need to do anything for me. Don’t worry, it’s not a  _ big ask,  _ but I do need you to prove that you’re going to be loyal. Nothing too hard to do, right?”

“Right.” Tommy said quietly, nodding slowly. He hadn’t expected for his decision to be put on show quite as publicly as this, and while he was still confident that he’d made the right choice, the daggers being stared into his chest by the survivors was enough to make him feel nauseous. 

“C’mon kid, sound a little more excited than that! All you’ve gotta do is prove you’re loyal, then you’ll be the heir to a magnificent Empire.”

“Yes, Schlatt, you’re right.” He said, his voice only marginally louder. “Whatever you ask. I’ll do it.”

“Oooh, I’m getting giddy now. It’s all coming together!” He laughed, taking the crossbow from his side and weighing it in his hands with a smile. “Ever used one of these?” 

“Yes, Schlatt.” Tommy said. He trusted him - right? The other competitors all seemed angry with Schlatt - afraid of him - but  _ he  _ could trust him. He just had to do this one thing and his loyalty would be proven and he would be safe. 

“Anything you ask, you can trust me.”

“Good.” Schlatt smiled, holding out the crossbow for him. Tommy took it slowly, his hands apprehensively wrapping themselves around the weapon. “I need you to kill Tubbo.”

There was immediate outcry when Schlatt spoke. Tubbo’s eyes widened fearfully and he stepped back. Technoblade stepped in front of him. HBomb, Mefs, and Sapnap moved to form a somewhat protective barrier between Tommy and Schlatt, and Tubbo himself. Schlatt just rolled his eyes, looking to Tommy.

“Well?”

“Tommy?” Came a quiet voice. “You wouldn’t--”

“He’s not going to kill you.” Technoblade growled. “Isn’t that right, Tommy?”

The silence continued. 

Schlatt offered him protection. Schlatt offered him safety. Schlatt offered him riches beyond his wildest dreams, a future filled with power and respect. 

Tubbo was his best friend. But Tubbo had no power, Tubbo couldn’t keep him safe. If he killed Tubbo, he would prove to Schlatt that he was worthy of being his heir. If he didn’t kill Tubbo, he would show that he was unloyal, and whatever fate awaited Tubbo and the rest of the competitors would surely await him too.

The choice he’d been given wasn’t whether or not he wanted to kill Tubbo, rather it was whether or not he wanted to die  _ with  _ Tubbo.

“There’s no ammunition…” Tommy whispered, blinking back tears. “I can’t shoot him without an arrow.”

Schlatt chuckled a little, giving Tommy a smile.

“You can.” He said, reaching to his side and grabbing the firework. “Actually, I think you’ll find that it’s a blast.”

He tossed the object toward Tommy, who caught it with ease and stared down at it blankly. That wasn’t just going to kill Tubbo, it would obliterate him, and anyone that stood near him would be killed in the explosion or - somehow a worse option - they’d live, covered in horrific, painful burns. 

“If you want to kill him, you’ll have to kill me first.” Technoblade announced, gaining the attention of both Tommy and Schlatt.

“Oh, for fucks sake, do you  _ have  _ to be such a hero?” Schlatt rolled his eyes as he began down the staircase, unsheathing the sword at his side. “On your knees.” He shouted.

Technoblade didn’t move, but holding his own against a man with a netherite sword and no immediate vulnerabilities was never going to work for long. When he remained standing, Schlatt used his free arm to grab him and force him to his knees in one swift motion, stepping behind him and bringing the blade of the sword to his neck.

“Right, do you think you’ll behave a little better for me now?”

“Don’t kill him, Tommy.” Technoblade chose to ignore Schlatt’s words in favour of begging the youngest, and Tommy swore he saw emotion flicker onto the man’s face. “You’re better than this.”

“Are you really going to listen to a man on his knees?” Schlatt asked. “If Techno knew what he was doing, he wouldn’t be in this position. You want to be safe, don’t you kid? Do as you’re told, and the world will be at your feet.”

“If he shoots now, he’ll kill us  _ all.”  _

“No, he’ll kill you all.” Schlatt responded, pushing the blade harder against his skin. “If you’d like, I can kill you, spare him having your blood on his hands.”

“Tommy,  _ please.”  _ Sapnap spoke up. “Think about what you’re doing.”

“Killing us all won’t fix anything!” Krinios said.

“You have a choice Tommy, pick the right one.” HBomb added.

“Tommy?” Tubbo asked, his voice alone managing to find its way through to Tommy. The younger looked away from the weapon and instead to his friend, meeting his gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. “What happens to you if you do what Schlatt says?”

“He’ll keep me safe.” Tommy said. “I won’t die. I won’t be hurt.”

“And if you don’t?” Tubbo asked calmly.

“Whatever happens to everyone else will happen to me, too.”

“Okay.” Tubbo fell silent, deep in thought for a moment. “You can kill me.”

As the words left his lips, there was a moment in which no one reacted. No one knew  _ how  _ to react. Even Tommy stood in silence, weighing the crossbow and firework between his fingers.

“The clock is ticking, Tommy.” Schlatt practically sang. “Make your choice.”

“I want to keep you safe, Tommy. I told you that, didn’t I?” Tubbo asked. “After Hole in the Wall, I told you that whatever happens I want you to be safe… Well if the choice is that you’re safe, or that neither of us are, then I chose the first one.”

“Okay.” Tommy said quietly, nodding his head. He knew, deep down, he’d already made that decision, but having Tubbo affirm it gave him the confidence he needed to act. Tubbo took a step forward, feeling the arms of his friends trying to stop him, but he shrugged them away as if they were nothing. 

“We’ll go where there’s less collateral.” Tubbo said, and Tommy nodded again. 

He trusted Schlatt. He trusted Schlatt.  _ He trusted Schlatt.  _ He let the words repeat in his mind like a mantra, his fingers tapping along the side of the weapon rhythmically to ground himself as he walked.  _ He trusted Schlatt. _

Tubbo positioned himself at the end of the arena, far enough away from the others that he was the only one in danger. 

“Any last words, Tubbo?” Schlatt called.

“Go to hell.” The man shouted back. “Tommy, don’t blame yourself. You’re making the right choice. I promise.”

“Say it, Tommy.” Schlatt instructed. “Say it and kill him. Get him right between the eyes.”

Tommy focused his attention on loading the firework into the crossbow, his throat tightening and his stomach churning with every second that passed. He trusted Schlatt. Tubbo said he was making the right choice. What he was doing was right. As he opened his mouth, finally managing to gulp down air, he felt tears prickling at his eyes. 

He lifted his arms, holding the crossbow tightly as he lined Tubbo up in his sights. It was harder to aim when his vision was so blurred, and when he blinked he felt liquid starting to run down his cheeks.

“Let the festival of Manburg begin…” He breathed, index finger curling around the trigger and releasing the firework straight toward his best friend’s chest. Tommy didn’t close his eyes in time to avoid seeing it explode, and he knew then that the image would  _ never  _ leave his mind. 

For a moment, there was Tubbo. Tubbo was replaced for a split second with a bright white point, the firework exploding into reds, blues, and whites, and then there was simply  _ no Tubbo.  _ At least, there was no Tubbo that stood bravely and accepted his fate, instead just  _ parts  _ of a Tubbo. The ground and seats were covered in a mix of blood, guts, and burns marks. Some of the sparks that had erupted from the firework had lit several small fires, but they fizzled out quickly without a proper fuel to burn.

The noise would haunt Tommy for the rest of his life, too. The whistle of the firework as it travelled through the air, the dull  _ thud  _ it made in the moment before it exploded when it collided with Tubbo’s stomach and sent him stumbling back, and eventually the pained cry of a boy exploding into thousands of tiny pieces. Tommy’s hand shook as the explosion reverberated around him, the crossbow dropping from his hand.

He trusted Schlatt, and that was where that had gotten him.

If he could go back in time, would he have done anything differently?

“Nice work there, Tommy. You’re gonna go far kid.” 

_ No.  _

He was safe now. 

Turning back to face Schlatt and the other competitors, Tommy composed himself. A breath was enough to stifle the tears, and a quick wipe of his cheeks with the back of his hand hid those that had already fallen. He straightened his posture, pushed his shoulders back, and gave Schlatt a smile that sat a little easier on his lips now that he’d done what he had to.

“We’ll go home in a moment. Just one last thing I want to do before we leave.” 

He jerked his right hand quickly to the side, moving the sword against Technoblade’s throat in one slick motion. With how fast his heart had presumably been racing, Tommy was somehow unsurprised with how much force his blood left his body with. Even from several feet away the first spurts of blood managed to splatter on his skin though it very quickly became a slow trickle as Technoblade’s heart slowed and he started to cough, trying desperately to remove the liquid that was pooling in his lungs. When Schlatt released his grip on the man he slumped forwards, the blood now dripping from his throat to his mouth and causing Technoblade to choke even harder. 

There were sounds of horror coming from behind Schlatt as the bloody sword was returned to his side, but he paid them no attention. Instead, he just extended his hand toward Tommy and smiled.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do. Are you ready?”

Tommy didn’t hesitate as he stepped forwards and held out his own hand. He let his fingers rest against the Emperor’s and he let out a breath. He was safe now, he was going home. 

“Ready.”

And in a flash, they were both gone. Six survivors remained, one body lay before them for a moment before it disappeared too, and the smouldering, charred remains of Tubbo disappeared.

Dodgebolt was over. The Championships had ended. But they didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

If they weren’t teleported back to the Hub, they’d eventually starve. At least they had the constant popping of the lava to remind them that they had another way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas!


	14. A Revelation

As Niki returned to the city, dawn broke, and it was as if the world had changed overnight. The sun’s rays were far more gentle, lazily reflecting off the leaves of the trees with a golden hue, painting the empty cobblestone streets with warmth and oozing into every crack of every wall. The newer buildings, renovations, and transit system stood out against the history of the city that seemed to blend seamlessly together: iron tram tracks reflected the light whereas the wood and stone buildings soaked it in. While there was still warmth to the sun - still power behind her light - the mist it shone through made it clear to all that summer was coming to a close. Niki found herself glad that she’d pulled a woollen poncho over her clothes when she’d left her home, goosebumps kept at bay as the fabric kept her body heat close. Despite the fact that she - and every other citizen of Manburg - was once again permitted to be outside, she tried to keep to dark alleyways where the stray cats congregated, or the lesser walked streets where the soldiers were less likely to patrol. She still had a bump on her head from when she’d been assaulted, and she didn’t want another encounter with a soldier too soon.

She entered the bakery quietly, smiling as the sun stretched through the windows and illuminated the little cafe area in shades of orange, yellow and red. It was beautiful, it was almost easy to forget that the world she lived in had been entirely turned upside down. But nothing came that easily, certainly not something as difficult as that, and Niki was brought back to reality as the silence she basked in was broken suddenly by the sounds of heavy footsteps running down the stairs from her apartment and crashing through the door to the bakery.

“Bad! Skeppy!” She gasped as her eyes settled on the two men running towards her without a care for the furniture in the cafe. The chair and tables between them and her seemed utterly meaningless, and entirely inconsequential.. “What on Earth are you doing?! You can’t be out here! You have to hide!” She insisted, looking over her shoulder and out of the windows in a moment of panic. “Go back upstairs, right now!” 

Neither said a word, coming to an immediate halt as she scolded them before doubling back on themselves as instructed. Niki leaned out of a frosted window to look up and down the street, ensuring that no one had been nearby to see them, before hurrying upstairs herself. By the time she’d reached the top of the stairs she’d removed her poncho and unhooked the lantern from her side, and she placed them both on the table by the door to her living room, the light weighing down the fabric and stopping it from sagging onto the floor.

“What was that about?!” Niki asked, closing the door behind her and twisting the lock, starting to remove her boots while they explained themselves.

“We woke up and you were gone!” Skeppy exclaimed. 

“I found the note. Niki, we were worried.” Bad explained, his voice somewhat calmer than Skeppy’s. “You think the Government’s up to no good, so your first thought is to sneak off in the night? If you’re right, you could have been in danger, or hurt, or  _ worse!  _ Where did you even  _ go?”  _

“The border.” Niki explained, finally stepping out of her boots and placing them beside the door. “Relax, it’s fine, I travelled underground. The tunnels extend all the way out to the Province, no one saw me come or go. Well… That’s not entirely true, but the person who I saw is on our side.”

“Niki…” Skeppy said cautiously, prompting her to go on.

“Minx is an old friend, and she’s from POGtopia, they know less than we do about what’s going on. I told her everything I know and she’s going to speak to her Major as soon as she can. If there’s anything they can do to help us, they will.”

“So… Is that it?” Bad asked, almost daring to sound hopeful. “We’ve convinced a foreign army to step in before Schlatt goes any further? It’s  _ done?”  _

Niki was shaking her head as she listened, yawning and stretching her arms above her. She walked further into her apartment, fully intending on going to bed and sleeping for several hours once the conversation came to a close.

“I’ve convinced an old friend who happens to be a Captain in the Province of Galeetopia’s army that Schlatt is trying  _ something.  _ That doesn’t mean she’ll be able to convince anyone higher up than her to act. I don’t know much about international law, but I’m fairly certain they’d need more evidence than one conversation to actually  _ act.”  _

“Okay, what do we do next?” Skeppy asked, and Niki gave a shrug.

“I need to sleep.” She admitted. “I’ll try and think of our next move when I wake up. We’ll need to find more proof that Schlatt’s up to no good, but I don’t even know where to start with that. You two need to stay here, though. If you’re not supposed to be in this country, you can’t go outside. You can help yourselves to anything in the kitchen you need, do as you please, but  _ please  _ don’t go outside.”

When they nodded, Niki smiled. Content that they’d do as she asked, she slunk into the spare bedroom without thought and let herself fall into bed. She didn’t bother changing into pyjamas, simply pulling her blankets over herself and closing her eyes. The pillows were soft beneath her head but sleep still didn’t come quickly, and Niki found herself tossing and turning as thoughts of  _ what came next  _ filled her mind. In the end, she sat up and grabbed a pen and a notebook to write down everything she thought of. 

If she couldn’t sleep, then she could use her time productively, and there was a long road ahead of them. Every moment was valuable, and Niki wasn’t about to waste a single second.

# # #

Waking up wasn’t a pleasant experience, but it wasn’t one that Tommy remembered vividly either. As his body was slowly weaned off anesthetic he woke up, he threw up, and he was removed from his stasis chamber. Arms held him upright until they got him into a wheelchair, but even then he struggled to keep his head up. Being downloaded alone meant he had no idea whether or not his experience was normal, but the scientists and doctors were on hand and remained by his side as he gradually became more and more lucid. Slowly but surely his body became accustomed to being in the real world once more, and eventually he managed to stay conscious for more than a couple of minutes at a time.

He found that he was in a bed in a hospital, surrounded by white walls on all four sides with a window on one, peering into the outside world. He didn’t want to risk standing up on his own just yet, but from his position lying down he could see the tops of old buildings, and beyond the city borders he could see mountains on the horizon. Their tops were covered by clouds that only seemed to thicken as time marched slowly on. 

Tommy didn’t know how long he’d been staring out the window for, but he knew it was long enough for the world to start to darken. The shadows cast by the clouds became longer, lights began to turn on in the city and in the hospital itself, and the door to his room opened/ It had done that several times since he’d woken up - he was brought medicine, food, and water - but this time there was no doctor in a white coat, no nurse in scrubs. Schlatt stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame for a moment as Tommy digested his presence.

“Hey, kiddo.” The man said, and Tommy watched as Schlatt flipped up the corners of his blazer (blue this time) to shove his hands into his trouser pockets. There was a moment where they looked at each other silently, before Schlatt took Tommy’s lack of response as invitation enough to step into the room. The door was closed behind him softly as he pulled out a chair, dragging the metal legs along the linoleum floor with an awful sound before sitting down. 

“How’re you feeling?”

“You made me kill Tubbo.” Tommy blinked.

“Yes.” Schlatt confirmed, and Tommy spent a second processing that. A lot of what had happened on the server seemed to now be blurry and confusing, but  _ that  _ stuck out. There was no haziness in his mind about the look on Tubbo’s face, but what did confuse him was his feelings about the situation. 

“Why?” 

“Because…” Schlatt began, leaning back in his chair and bringing his hands together in front of him. Tommy watched closely as he considered his words, waiting with almost baited breath for his reply. “Because I needed to be sure, Tommy. There’s something about you--”

“You’ve said that.” Tommy cut him off. “You’ve said that  _ several times  _ now, what does that  _ mean?”  _

“Patience, kid. You gotta learn to be patient.” Schlatt said. “I needed to be sure that what I thought I knew was right. You did what you were told, did the right thing. Sure it took a little convincing, but you did it in the end. Do you regret it?”

Tommy paused for a moment, turning his head away from Schlatt to look at the room he was in. He was comfortable and well looked after, safe after everything he’d been through. The room was well furnished - especially for a hospital - and it was clean. There was nothing he had to worry about now. Not only that, but when he was well enough to leave he’d be powerful. He’d be standing at the side of the Emperor as his heir, he’d have riches, strength, and a budding Empire at his fingertips. 

Was he supposed to regret it?

“No.” He admitted. “I didn’t realise before, but there’s more to life than friends. Tubbo was… He was my friend. My best friend. But that was it. You are -  _ this is -  _ something more.”

Schlatt let out a breath of air that sounded halfway to a chuckle, and a hand came to rest atop Tommy’s shoulder. His thumb brushed gently over the hospital gown that covered him - fabric thin enough that he could feel the contact - and Tommy smiled. 

“Sounds like my son.” He said, his tone softer than that Tommy was accustomed to. There was no malice behind the words, though Tommy picked up on a hint of sadness.

“I didn’t know you had one.” He replied. “If you had a son, why wouldn’t he be your heir?”

“Because, Tommy, I lost my kid a long time ago.” Schlatt began, and the sadness he’d noticed before clung much more heavily to those words. Tommy decided that the way the man settled in his seat indicated that there was a story to tell so he said nothing, instead allowing the Emperor the time he needed to begin. “When I was younger, before I even thought about getting into politics, I had a family. I had a wife, we’d just had a baby boy, we called him Theseus. We were happy, at least I thought we were, but my wife left with my son.” He paused for breath, shaking his head as if the memory itself were painful. 

“She took him from me one night, left the country with him and left me nothing more than a note telling me they weren’t coming back.” His story paused for a second as he reached into his pocket to take out a flask, fingers slowly unscrewing the lid before he leaned his head back and took a long drink. 

“I knew that my son would grow up to be strong, and I knew that fate would bring him back to me. So, when it was announced years ago that we’d be hosting the thirteenth Minecraft Championships under my leadership I met with Noxite and Scott. They had similar ambitions to me, we decided to work together and benefit from a mutual partnership. One of the things I tasked them with doing - Scott with doing, to be exact - was to scout out for people born around the time of my son. I had no idea how much my ex-wife would tamper with paperwork, but I was certain that if anyone could find my son, it would be Scott.”

“Quig took part last year to get the audience a little more used to having minors take part, then this year you and Tubbo joined the Championships. Once blood samples were taken and your genome was sequenced I had Scott and Noxite take a sample from me, too. I knew I was going to be uploaded to the server eventually so it needed to be done anyway, but it meant that my genetics could be compared to the competitors. It meant that I could see if Scott had managed to find my boy.”

As Schlatt went quiet and tears brewed in his eyes, Tommy realised what this was leading towards. He could tell that Schlatt was waiting for him to speak up - that it was on  _ him  _ to continue this conversation, to ask the final question - but he almost didn’t want to. Not knowing the end of the story was almost easier than knowing it, and he was tempted to remain silent.

But he couldn’t. Not when Schlatt had poured his heart out like that. Not after he’d gone through years of effort, and a decade and a half without a son. He was owed more than an unfinished symphony.

“Did he find Theseus?” He asked in the end, settling back against his pillow to prepare himself for the reply. There was a pregnant pause after his question, and he almost wondered if Schlatt hadn’t heard him, but he let the silence remain.

“He did.” Schlatt breathed eventually, a hand coming to loosen his tie and undo the top button of his shirt. “He did.”

“Which one of us was it?” Tommy asked. He didn’t need to ask, he already knew the answer, but he needed to  _ hear  _ the answer. Until the words were spoken by Schlatt, Tommy wouldn’t believe any of it was true. Schlatt seemed to pick up on this - he didn’t ridicule Tommy for seemingly not noticing the context clues that were laid before him. 

“You, Tommy.  _ You  _ are Theseus.  _ You  _ are the son I lost so many years ago.”

Silence returned to the room again. It was heavy, weighing down on Tommy’s chest and leaving him struggling to breathe. The few sounds that did break the peace were sniffles coming from Schlatt (though he’d  _ never  _ admit to such a thing) and the occasional beeping of machines. Minutes passed, his eyes returned to the darkening horizon he could see from the window, and Schlatt - his father - eventually got to his feet.

“I’ll give you time to process it all.” Schlatt said quietly. “You’re the heir to this Empire by choice and by blood, it’s a lot to take in all at once. You’ll come home tomorrow, we’ll start getting you in more regal shape then. Sleep well, son.” Tommy winced a little at the word. It didn’t sit right with him. Schlatt’s footsteps echoed around the room as he walked to the door, finger hovering over the light switch as he stood at the threshold. 

“Welcome home, Theseus.” He said, pressing his finger down and leaving Tommy illuminated only by the lamp beside his bed. Schlatt left the room then, closing the door behind him with a soft click, and Tommy was left alone.

He let out a breath he’d been holding and brought his hands to his face. He pressed his fingers against his closed eyes and rubbed at them, letting out a quiet groan as the realization of it all hit him squarely in his chest.

This was where he was meant to be. This was his birthright. This country - this Empire - would one day be his to rule over. When morning came, he’d stand by the side of his father and take on his true role of heir. 

The future looked bright for Tommy, and he couldn’t be more excited.

# # #

Ant and Velvet had barely been alone together in the last week. Whenever they saw each other they were accompanied by Niki, or they were in the apartment above her bakery talking to Skeppy and Bad. Niki herself had to reopen the cafe to ensure there was no suspicion placed on her (and she’d been disgruntled as she’d served more than a few soldiers in that time), but it meant she was running herself into the ground. They’d all noticed, they’d all commented on the fact, but nothing would stop her making her nightly crusade through the tunnels to see if Minx was on patrol again, if she had any answers from her superior, and if they were any closer to getting help in their efforts against Schlatt. 

That evening, for the first time since the shutdown had been implemented, the two were alone. The sun that had shone down over the city during the day was now dancing in and out of clouds, the long shadows of the two men disappearing and reappearing before them time and time again. Their feet stepped in perfect synchronisation and their hands brushed as they walked close beside each other, but the knocking of their knuckles wasn’t enough for them to broach the elephant in the room.

They’d almost kissed.

It wasn’t as though they didn’t  _ want  _ to mention it, it was just that there’d always been something more important to do. More letters to read from the different Secretaries, more information to pull together and cross-examine to find every flaw in the Government’s schemes, and more work to do to ready themselves to share their findings with the people if they wanted to get them onboard. But now that they walked alone, they had an opportunity to say something.

So… Why weren’t they? 

Velvet glanced at Ant from the corner of his eye, much as he had been doing for most of the walk. Whenever he’d looked to Ant his eyes were on the ground and that just made starting a conversation about it so much harder. Eventually, when the paths began to narrow and the crowds became more dense as they entered the old part of the city, Velvet opened his mouth to say something.

“I like you.” Ant beat him to it, the words blurting out through whatever walls that he’d put up. Velvet watched as Ant squeezed his eyes tightly shut and wound his hands into fists, tension filling his body. 

“Good.” He replied, laughing a little as he tried his best to ease the man still walking beside him. “I like you too, it’d be a shame if the feeling wasn’t mutual.”

“No, Velvet, I don’t mean--”

“Ant, I know  _ exactly  _ what you mean.” Velvet said. “You don’t lean in to kiss someone you like platonically. At least, if you do, it’s gonna be one hell of a wake up call for me.” He laughed a little harder this time, and Ant joined in. His tight fists unclenched, and as his fingers relaxed Velvet was quick to slip his hand into Ant’s. They fit together easily - fingers entwining and squeezing each other - and both let out a breath of relief that  _ finally  _ they’d said something. The silence between them now felt much more comfortable than it had before, and Velvet started to tug Ant to the side of the street. They squeezed past other people as they walked - though everyone was going in the same direction, which made it a little more difficult to cross without tripping others up - and eventually they were at the edge of the road. 

Before Velvet even had a chance to pull Ant into a side street with him, the glares of soldiers with loaded guns cautioned them. It was utterly unsurprising that there was such an intense, on-edge military presence today of all days, but sneaking into an alleyway to share a kiss wasn’t something that Velvet really expected to be prohibited.

“Relax.” Ant told him quietly as they continued to walk. “We’ve got time.”

“Yeah.” Velvet nodded, tightening his grip on Ant’s hand a little more. They’d both been working with Niki enough over the last few days and they knew that might not be the case, but for now optimism suited them. “Sure we do.”

Their conversation ended as they reached the edge of the square. It was packed with people, and there was no room to really get any closer than they already were. There was a stage in the centre of the square that was heavily guarded, with railings keeping people from getting too close, and a microphone stood waiting to be used. No one was there yet, and so all the two men could hear was the sound of hundreds of conversations all blurring into one, birds flying overhead, and music playing quietly over the speakers set up at regular intervals.

They didn’t know what to expect from the Emperor’s speech, but Niki had asked the two of them to go and find out what they could. Whatever he was going to say, they were both confident there would be something more if they read between the lines.

While a National Internet system had been established there were still no global communications available to the people of Manburg, but the feature to record still worked on both Ant and Velvet’s phones. So, when Schlatt stepped out onto the stage with his cape billowing behind him, accompanied by Noxite, Scott, and Tommy, they both began to record. A hush fell over the crowd, the birds stopped chirping, and a cloud covered the sun entirely. Everyone was waiting eagerly to hear what had to be said - and the physical presence of not just the organisers of the Championships but one of the contestants, for the first time since the games had taken place - only intrigued them more.

Schlatt stepped up to the microphone, smiling as he pulled the device from the stand, and he began to speak.

# # #

“Ladies, gentlemen, citizens of the great Empire of Manburg, thank you all for coming out today. I wanted to speak to you all and I’m glad to see so,  _ so  _ many bright, shining faces looking back at me. Our Empire’s future.” Schlatt smiled. There was a podium beside him with a speech pre-written, but he’d never been one to follow the script. He knew the points he needed to make, he’d cover them in his own way.

“The attack on our Empire, the sabotaging of this year’s Minecraft Championship games, is utterly inexcusable. I know we’ve all suffered through a difficult week and a half together and that for a lot of us, it feels like  _ much  _ longer than that, but I also know that among everything that has happened there is good. There is reason to hope, reason to celebrate, and today I want to share that with you all. The darkness we endure through makes the light so much brighter.”

He stepped to the edge of the stage, sitting himself down and dangling his legs toward the ground. It would make him look  _ approachable,  _ Noxite had said, and Scott had added that calling himself the Emperor would likely make people more wary of him. If they saw that he was still Schlatt, still the leader they had democratically elected, then they would be far less apprehensive to his new form of leadership. The word  _ dictator  _ had reportedly been whispered on the streets and that was simply a word he couldn’t have associated with himself or his Government.

“You all know, when I came to power three years ago, that I did this not just for myself, but for the son that I lost. I told this story at my rallies time and time again, that he was my inspiration. He was the reason I cared so much about the education and healthcare systems of this country. He was the reason I wanted to invest in our security, to ensure that no one else would ever wake up to a note and an empty home again. To this day, everything I do has been inspired by my son. I think before I act, if he could see me now, what would he say? How would this benefit him? How will this make Manburg a better place for him no matter how young or old he is? It’s why our Empire, today, is so great. Everyone here understands, everyone has a family. Whether you have parents, siblings, children, whether you’ve lost someone or hope to expand your family in the future, everyone shares this experience. Well, I come bearing good news.”

Schlatt shifted his position, taking in a deep breath and blinking rapidly. He wasn’t one to show emotion publicly, not like this, and while the speech he was making wasn’t  _ just  _ to share his joy with the people, none of what he felt was a lie.

“Two men on this stage, Noxite and Scott, have done something wonderful. They brought the Championships to our Empire, they’ve been working round the clock to help redownload every contestant and have been ensuring that both physical and mental aftercare has been adequately provided, but they’ve done something more than that for me. Two weeks ago, they came to me with something very,  _ very  _ special. As with every year, their team was beginning the process of sequencing the genetic code of the contestants to ensure a smooth transition to the servers. With one of the contestants they noticed something, they came to talk to me, and they ran a test using my DNA.”

He brought a hand to his eye, wiping at a tear, and got back to his feet before continuing.

“The boy standing on this stage, the boy you know as Tommyinnit, is the son I lost almost fifteen years ago.”

Schlatt sobbed, lowering the microphone, and the crowd cheered, whooped,and clapped with excitement. He turned to look over his shoulder - Tommy stood between Scott and Noxite - and he brought a hand to his lips before blowing a kiss to his son. It felt strange to be doing this after all these years - and there was part of him that knew he was overreacting for the sympathy from the audience, using his son to gain their trust - but the reaction was still more or less genuine. He loved his son for more than just his usefulness.

“I hope--” His voice cracked. “I hope that you can all welcome my son, Tommy, home. He’s recovered well from his time on the server and we’ve spent some time together bonding, but now I’d like you all to hear from the heir to this Empire, from his Imperial Highness, Prince Tommy.”

The clapping continued, Schlatt took a step back and wiped his eyes as Tommy walked forward. Rather than his almost iconic jeans and white t-shirt (with the unforgettable red sleeves and neckline), Tommy now wore a bespoke, tailored suit. It was made from silk, a mixture of black and red fabric with golden patterns stitched onto the cuffs of his blazer and trousers, with red lining on the inside of his jacket. Beneath the blazer was a plain black shirt, no tie, buttoned almost all the way to his neck. He wore a cape not too unlike his father’s, although it wasn’t quite as large and heavy. The novelty of always having fabric draping from his shoulders had worn off rather quickly, and so he was glad that he wasn’t dragging too big of a cape around behind him at all times.

As he moved forwards a hand was pressed to his shoulder, and Tommy stopped in his tracks for a moment to turn to face his father. It still felt odd to call Schlatt such a thing, but the emotion in his eyes - the love, the years of heartbreak, and the pride - made it easier. Every day, he was becoming more and more Schlatt’s son. Rather than move around the way his father did, he stood at the podium and trusted in the speech that had already been written for him. He wasn’t used to this life, and thinking of the right words to say on the spot to such a huge group of people who would be expecting so much from him based on his title alone was intimidating. 

“Hello.” He said, flinching a little at the way his voice sounded through the microphone. The crowd fell immediately into a hushed silence, waiting for him to speak with baited breath, and he licked his lips nervously before glancing at the paper before him and continuing. 

“My name is Tommy. I’m sixteen, I play Minecraft competitively, and about a week ago I woke up in a hospital. I don’t know all that much about what happened to the server in reality, but I do know that while I was uploaded… It was horrific.” His eyes looked to the page, trying to find his place, and he placed a finger beneath the words to move as he read. “Thanks to the hard work of the Noxcrew, we were all safely redownloaded. The other contestants are currently recovering in hospital. While most have quickly returned to normal, and will soon be returning to their home countries, there were a number of injuries caused by the attack.”

The words, while complete lies, didn’t taste sour in his mouth. He’d expected that they would, but with the amount of lying he’d done to his friends and fellow contestants while on the server he’d become accustomed to the practice. Lying to thousands of strangers was easy. Besides, he was lying to them for a good cause: that wasn’t so bad. 

“When I woke up, my father came to visit and he told me the story of my childhood. He told me how he’d searched for me, how he’d missed me everyday, and how now that we were together again there would be nothing to stop us from making the Empire of Manburg and its people into the strongest version of itself.”

The more he spoke, the more his confidence grew, and Tommy was getting into his groove now. 

“Our Empire will care for its citizens, our Empire will bring hope for tomorrow, and I look forward to working to make this happen. I serve you all, the people, and will spend the rest of my life making this Empire better for each and every one of you.”

There were no more words on the page for Tommy to repeat, so he offered the audience a smile and a nod of thanks, and the applause from before returned. His smile widened as his eyes scanned the crowd, watching the faces of thousands looking at  _ him  _ and  _ him alone.  _ They clapped for him, loved him, believed and trusted him, and it felt entirely different to the cheers when he’d stepped into the arena with his team nearly two weeks ago. 

This felt right. 

He looked over his shoulder to see his father clapping for him, to see Scott and Noxite offering encouraging smiles of their own, and he felt more comfortable in his new role. He _was_ His Imperial Highness, Prince Tommy, he _was_ the heir to the Empire, and he was going to be damn good at it. Maybe that was why, in the sea of thousands, he spotted two men that weren’t clapping for him. Instead, they seemed quick to turn on their feet and leave the square. There was no law against it, sure, but Tommy put that information away. He had a feeling it would come in handy later. 

  
When he was led off stage by his father, surrounded by soldiers on all sides, he found himself being whisked quickly away into his first formal engagement. A Cabinet meeting didn’t sound like the most exciting way to spend his evening, but it signalled the start of something new, the beginning of the next chapter in his life. Being the heir to the Empire was real now, there was no going back, and he couldn’t wait to get started. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little bit of a shorter chapter & a slightly less action packed one, too. i think after the excitement of dodgebolt we need a bit of a lull to recover! so... hope you enjoyed that little spanner getting thrown into the works
> 
> aka, moonie discovered the dadschlatt au & their brain has been rotting every since :D


	15. An Unwelcome Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! if you follow me on twitter you've already seen this, but i just want to remind you all that this is a mature rated fic & that a lot of the tags are dark. up until now, things have been fairly smooth sailing, the violence hasn't really extended beyond what happens in the smp, but the darker tags (eugenics, dictatorships, & torture, for example) are really about to kick in. if you're uncomfortable with any of these topics, please approach with caution - the end notes will contain a tldr if you need to skip over any parts for your own comfort. i'd say that this is probably the second darkest chapter i have planned, so just be careful how you go!
> 
> love you all <3

Five sat round a heavy oak wood table: Niki; Ant; Velvet; Skeppy and; Bad. The table had been carved hundreds of years ago and was almost as old as the bakery it sat in. The wood was covered with scratches and blemishes that told the story of its life, and now there were dozens of papers scattered across the surface that told a new story. Letters, pamphlets, notices that had been stuck on doors and posters that had decorated the city were spread out in a seemingly unordered fashion, but to Niki each and every one had a logical placement before her. It was organised chaos, though to an untrained eye it would simply be  _ chaos.  _ The calloused tips of her fingers were covered in papercuts accumulated over the hours of the evening spent picking up and putting down the papers over and over again, studying the wording carefully, looking deliberately at the use of each word for a trace of the truth.

In amongst the papers produced by the Government and the civil servants that worked for them were dozens of pages of notes that Niki had made. Every thought she’d had over the last week had been written down in a notebook, some more legible than others, and some not even written in a language known to anyone outside the five at the table. Now the pages of that notebook had been torn out and laid out in front of the group to decipher, they were able to start connecting the dots of everything they’d heard, read, and discovered.

Niki had quickly gone from  _ suspicious  _ of Schlatt and his intentions to a woman obsessed, thinking of nothing else during every waking hour - and most of those that she slept through too. The bakery had once been her life, but now she was entirely dedicated to discovering - and stopping - whatever Schlatt had planned.

Makeshift curtains had been hung over the windows of the  _ ABC Cafe and Bakery,  _ allowing the five to move their operation downstairs in the evenings. By flickering candlelight, they could plot against Schlatt and his Government in secret, and it kept Bad and Skeppy from going stir crazy being hidden away upstairs during all hours of the day. 

“It sounds like a facist dictatorship.” Velvet breathed, breaking the silence the group had been sitting in for some time. 

“Because it  _ is  _ a facist dictatorship.” Niki replied, not looking away from the paper between her fingers. “It’s been building for years. Ever since Schlatt was elected he’s been pushing Nationalism. Hosting the Championships was never about raising L’Manburg’s presence on the global stage, it was about shoving national pride down the throats of every citizen to the point where he could change the name of the country, call himself the  _ Emperor,  _ and everyone would bow down and agree. He cares about power, not people.”

Her words were spat with such malice and anger that it was a wonder she didn’t rip the paper she held in half - the fact that her fingers trembled and one leg was bouncing showed just how much rage she was holding back. In the moments after she spoke, no one dared to reply, and when Ant eventually  _ did  _ say something his words were soft in a dramatic contrast to those that Niki had delivered.

“I’ll make some tea.” He said, pushing his chair back over the wooden floorboards and getting to his feet. “You’re going to give yourself a headache.”

For once Niki didn’t protest, closing her eyes and bringing one hand to her temple to press against her forehead firmly. Ant was right, and she winced a little when she heard him step on one of the creakier planks. She was  _ definitely  _ getting a headache. 

The dance of the candle when she opened her eyes wasn’t doing much to help, either, and for a moment all she could focus on was the slowly dripping wax down its side. Her mind was wandering, she was losing her focus, and it was a clear sign that she needed to stop.

“You can take a break, Niki.” Skeppy told her. “We can keep reading through everything. It’d help us all, really. The four of us need to be able to understand this code as easily as you do.”

“I can’t stop, I  _ won’t  _ stop. This country is my home, I won’t see it destroyed and I won’t see the people that live here hurt. I can cope with a headache.”

“We know, Niki, but you need to learn to trust that we’re on your side. You aren’t alone in this, we’re with you.” Velvet reassured her.

“If we weren’t by your side, we wouldn’t still  _ be here.”  _ Bad added. “Skeppy and I would have just gone home. We aren’t breaking Schlatt’s laws for the hell of it: we’re here to help you.”

Her posture relaxed in that moment, shoulders sagging and fingers dropping the paper she still held as her head fell into her hands. She rubbed at her eyes, the exhaustion from the last week finally beginning to set into her bones as realisation hit her: they were right. Despite having her friends by her side, she’d been trying to do this alone. But she simply  _ couldn’t  _ take down an entire Government on her own - especially not a Government that had the military on its side. She was just one woman, and no amount of determination or willpower could dismantle them. There was strength in numbers, and she needed to let her friends in more.

“You’re right.” She sighed, removing her hands from her face and opening her eyes once more to look at them whilst she spoke. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I trust all of you, I know you’re trying to help.”

“We can take a walk tomorrow, if you want?” Velvet suggested. “The only time you’ve been leaving recently is to go out and see if Minx has anything for you, but I heard that Schlatt planted a tree just outside the original city walls. The Tree of Manburg, or something. It’d be good to get some fresh air.”

“Yeah.” Niki said, forcing a smile to her face as she nodded along. “Yes, we can take a walk tomorrow. Maybe there’ll be something at the tree.”

“Maybe. Or, maybe it’s just a tree.” Skeppy pointed out. “Evil dictators do normal things, too. It’s more likely to just be symbolism than something  _ physically  _ malicious.”

With the words of her friends and the promise of tea, Niki relaxed completely. It was easy to feel safe around them, and knowing that they were on her side -  _ accepting  _ that they were working with her - gave her the opportunity to take a breath and catch herself. She could discern then that if she didn’t take a moment every once in a while to do just that, she’d lose herself completely. And if she did that, she wouldn’t be able to do  _ anything  _ to combat whatever Schlatt was up to.

“Thank you.” She said softly, leaning back in her seat and offering a much more genuine smile. Her friends smiled back in turn, and she could tell that with her acceptance that she needed to look after herself a weight had been lifted off their shoulders.

The peace that followed lasted only a moment, before the sound of two sharp knocks against the door of the bakery caused the four to jump. They all sat for a moment with their eyes wide and focused solely on the doorway, before two more knocks promptly followed. As surprise and fear fought in all of their minds for supremacy, fear almost exclusively won out.

“Get upstairs.” Niki said firmly, not averting her gaze for even a moment. Neither Bad, Skeppy, nor Velvet questioned her order, and the three were quick to get to their feet and run. Niki listened to their footsteps, counted the number of squeaks she heard from the floorboards, then the number of steps she heard after the door behind the counter closed. Once she was satisfied that the three were all safely in her apartment she got to her feet and took a moment to run her hands over her blouse and skirt. The more time she could buy, the better.

She had  _ no idea  _ who could be behind the door at this hour, and she didn’t want to risk Bad and Skeppy being found if she greeted someone that was going to be less than friendly to the fact that foreigners were there. 

Two final knocks came - the knuckles that made the noise hitting harder against the door this time as the person they belonged to grew impatient - and Niki slid the key from her pocket into the lock. As the mechanism clicked quietly to notify both her and those outside that the door was now unlocked she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and breathed in to the count of three, before reopening her eyes with a charming smile and pulling open the door.

She was greeted by an official looking man in a suit with a skulkpad in his hands and three soldiers standing behind him. She decided immediately that she didn’t like him, nor his freshly ironed clothes or slicked back hair. Everything about him was neat, uptight, and orderly. He looked like a picture perfect example of a Government employee - and Niki presumed that he was one of Schlatt’s many puppets.

“Miss Nihachu, I presume?” The man asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose before offering out his hand for her to take. “We’re here for the census.”

“It’s a little late in the evening for that.” She replied, cautiously taking his hand and shaking it softly. “I was expecting a form.”

“Orders from the new administration.” The man told her, nodding his head to the soldiers. Following his silent command, the three men pushed past Niki in a clearly rehearsed manner and invited themselves into the bakery. “A personal touch, and a precaution. We need to ensure our Empire is safe, after all. If you have nothing to hide, it won’t be a problem.”

Niki glanced over her shoulder, seeing the soldiers already starting to examine the papers she’d laid out on the table - both her notes and the documents she’d gathered - before swallowing nervously and nodding.

“Of course. Nothing to hide.”

“Wonderful.” The man smiled - a broad, toothy grin that Niki could only describe as menacing - as he too stepped past her. She waited for a beat, her eyes glancing out into the dark night and her lungs taking in a large gulp of cold air, before she quietly closed the door behind her. Niki was on edge - there was no other way of describing how she felt - and even the gentlest click of the latch on the door falling into place was enough to make her jump.

“A few basic questions first, Miss Nihachu. Could you provide your date and place of birth, and confirm your full name and address.”

Niki nodded, her hands moving behind her back and fingers twisting the hem of her blouse between them to try and keep herself grounded as she replied.

“My full name is Nikita Nihachu, I live in the apartment upstairs: 17a Simons Street. I’m 18, I was born in L’Manburg on November 3rd 2001.”

“Thank you very much.” He said, continuing through his list. “Your employment?”

“This.” Niki gestured around briefly with one hand, before it returned behind her and she rocked back and forth nervously on her heels. “I own and run the bakery and cafe here.”

“Excellent.” The man tapped across the screen of the skulkpad, inputting the answers. “Do you own your home as well, Miss Nihachu?”

“Yes.” She confirmed, her eyes momentarily leaving the man’s face to look instead at one of the soldiers that had picked up her notes - bringing it closer to his face to read what had been written. “It’s been in my family for generations, just like the bakery. I inherited it when my parents died.”

“So you’re the only one living here?” He asked, and Niki nodded again.

“My friends are visiting - they’re upstairs. We weren’t expecting guests this evening.”

“Friends?” He raised an eyebrow questioningly, his eyes moving from the skulkpad to take in Niki. The way they looked up slowly - almost roaming over her body - made her feel sick to her stomach. 

“Yes, my friends.”

“How many?”

She swallowed.

“Two.”

“I presume, if asked, they can provide identification to prove that they’re citizens of Manburg?” He asked, and Niki nodded slowly.

“They can.” 

“Excellent.” He repeated. “We’ll take a look upstairs in just a moment. I presume, though I shouldn’t, that if you live alone you’re unmarried?”

“Single.” She confirmed, watching as he tapped the screen once more. As he scrolled down his face twisted into something that she couldn’t quite read, though she had a gut feeling that she wasn’t going to like whatever came next.

“Now, Miss Nihachu, this might sound a little personal but I do need to ask, all part of the form.” He explained. “You’re a woman of child bearing age, have you had children, or are you currently pregnant?”

Niki felt heat rush to her cheeks and her skin flush deep red. Her hands moved from behind her to in front of her, arms now wrapping around her middle and holding herself tightly. She was a strong woman, she wouldn’t stand for any kind of injustice or intolerance toward others, but her skin was left crawling with those words and she couldn’t find a way to shake that feeling. Already, the man before her had seemed sinister, and being asked to answer such an invasive question not just to him - but where the three other soldiers in the room could hear - left a sour feeling in her mouth.

“I have no children, and I am not pregnant. And, if I may say so, I  _ don’t  _ think that’s the sort of thing you should be asking a woman. Certainly not for a census.”

“The Emperor simply wants to ensure that upcoming healthcare reforms reflect the needs of a changing population. Besides, if our Empire is going to be strong, we’ll need to ensure that the next generation are  _ exactly  _ what we want them to be. I’m sure the Emperor doesn’t mean for the question to come across as rude, but the information provided will help our policy officials with future planning.”

Rather than push any further and continue the conversation any longer, Niki bit her tongue and nodded. She could feel the eyes of two of the soldiers on her, but she felt as if she could say nothing. They’d already read her notes, she doubted they’d need much more of a reason to act against her, and so complying now seemed like the best option. It also meant that she could help buy more time for Skeppy and Bad to hide. She  _ hoped  _ they were hiding. Without explicitly telling them to, there was every chance that they were simply waiting it out upstairs, but she hoped that they had the common sense to keep themselves out of sight. 

“Thank you, Miss Nihachu. Now, while my men here take a look upstairs and verify that your friends are who they say they are, could you find your birth certificate? I’m sure you’ve been informed by now that they’re to be replaced with  _ Manburg Identity Cards.” _

“I’ve been told, yes.” She nodded curtly. “Right this way.” 

With that, Niki walked from where she’d been standing by the door across the cafe and toward the counter of the bakery. She moved as slowly as she dared, painfully aware of the four pairs of footsteps following her. She hoped that Ant, Velvet, Skeppy and Bad would hear that people were approaching - afraid of what could possibly happen if they were ignorant to everything that was going on. Once behind the counter, she heard a quiet chuckle from one of the soldiers.

“Nice buns.” Came the voice, and without looking over her shoulder Niki had an awful feeling that the man that had spoken  _ wasn’t  _ referring to the baked goods sealed beneath glass domes on the counter. It would have been hard to convince herself of that anyway - but after such a forward question being asked just moments ago she was certain that his meaning was crueler than it sounded.

Thirteen steps came between her and the door to her apartment, and she counted each one. With her right hand she reached out for the railing and she used it to guide herself up the stairs she’d climbed thousands of times before. It meant that she could close her eyes and pretend that none of this was happening, it meant that she could will into existence a world in which everything was  _ normal. _

Except after the thirteenth step she opened her eyes, and everything was still the same.

Without needing to unlock the door - and with four men following close behind her - she couldn’t so much as knock to give her friends in her apartment any additional warning of what was about to happen. She just had to pray to every God conceivable that everything would work out.

Pushing the door open she was greeted by the warmth of her apartment - bright colours, family heirlooms, and gentle lights failing to make her feel welcome on this occasion - and Ant and Velvet sitting on her sofa. They were several feet apart, with the television switched on to a channel she didn’t even recognise and the volume high. They looked up to Niki, and she hoped that they could see the desperation in her eyes as she stepped forward, begging them to just go along with whatever was said. The three soldiers stepped either side of Niki and began to examine the small apartment, and the man in a suit smiled at her friends on the sofa.

“Good evening gentlemen.” He said. “My apologies for interrupting what I’m sure was a lovely get together with this charming young woman. I’m just taking the census, I’ll be out of your hair soon. But Miss Nihachu here let me know that she had friends visiting - do you mind showing some identification? Any official L’Manburg document will do. Until we’ve changed all the official documents to Manburg, they’ll still be valid. Bureaucracy takes time, after all.” He smiled, stepping past Niki and holding out a hand as he approached Ant and Velvet expectantly.

Now that she wasn’t in the sightlines of any of the soldiers she had a second to let the brave facade she was putting up falter. A hand came to her chest, tightly grasping at the soft fabric of her blouse as she took in a shaky breath as quietly as she could. By no means were her and her friends out of the woods yet, but they were  _ getting there.  _ She didn’t wait for more than a moment before she collected herself once more, straightening her back and putting a polite smile on her face just in case someone turned to look at her, before crossing her living space to find the little desk where she kept all of her important documents. Her footsteps were so much lighter than usual. So light, in fact, that she could hear both Ant and Velvet’s breathing when she walked past them. 

The desk - like almost everything else in her home - was old. The drawers were stiff and she grabbed the handle of one, having to jiggle it a little before she was able to slide it out. The man in the suit hummed - clearly satisfied with whatever Ant and Velvet had shown him - and she could feel his eyes on her once more as her fingers began to slowly rifle through each and every document she had. Her parents will, the deed to the home, insurance documents, a letter, and then her birth certificate. 

“Which of you is the lucky man, then?” The man asked Ant and Velvet. “A beautiful young woman like Miss Nihachu, if I were your age she’d certainly have caught my eye.”

She stopped moving for a moment, jaw clenching and teeth grinding together. If there weren’t three men with guns in her home, she’d have punched the man in the suit, but that wasn’t an option right now. She decided that when she took Schlatt down, he’d be the next to go.

“Neither of us. We’re just friends.” Velvet answered, and the man let out a quiet chuckle. 

“It’s a shame. She seems like a good woman.”

Niki’s fingernails scraped against her birth certificate as she saw red, but she forced herself to remain calm as she removed the paper from the drawer and turned back to face the man with it in her hands.

“Here.” She said simply, refusing to take a step forward and offer it up to him. If he wanted to call her a  _ good woman,  _ then he could be the one to retrieve the certificate. 

For a moment, he didn’t move, and the two of them were stuck in a staring competition that had reached a stalemate. Neither wanted to be the first to step forward - the first to give in - but Niki refused to let this go. It was the only play she could make that ensured she retained  _ some  _ dignity after his visit, and to her that was a hill worth dying on, no matter how trivial and insignificant it may seem.

He eventually stepped forward with one foot, swiping the paper from her, before returning to his original position and scanning his eyes over the document. Content that it was all in order, he folded it up and tucked it inside his blazer pocket.

“Thank you, Miss Nihachu.” He said, plastering a wide, petty smile across his face. She returned the gesture with the same venom.

With their interaction coming to an end, the attention of the four moved to the three soldiers. One was in her bedroom, another in her spare bedroom, and one in her kitchen. Ant and Velvet seemed to be watching the one in her bedroom with nervous eyes and she took that as a silent sign that Bad and Skeppy were hiding there. If history told her anything they were probably in her closet, and with how thoroughly the soldiers seemed to be searching through everything she worried that this wasn’t secure enough. There was no way that no one would look in there - no way that they would leave that singular stone unturned.

“Private Ponk.” The man in the suit called, and the soldier in her bedroom looked up.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Are you about done? We’ve more houses to visit this evening.”

Niki, Ant, and Velvet watched on as Ponk turned his attention away from the man in the suit and to the closet. When Ant and Velvet’s eyes widened just a touch, Niki let her hands drop to her sides and ball up the fabric of her skirt into her fists. 

“Just a moment, Sir. All clear so far.” 

The man called out in a similar fashion to the two other soldiers looking through her things, but Niki didn’t listen to what he said or what their names were, simply focusing all of her attention on Ponk. He opened the door to her closet in one swift motion - and she realised that only she was at an angle to see his reaction. Neither the man in the suit, Ant, nor Velvet knew what he was about to do.

So when his face fell, and a hand began to move slowly to the gun at his side, Niki paled.

She couldn’t tell how long the moment stretched out for - if it was only a second, or if it was minutes - but it felt like an eternity passed as she watched on. Aside from his hand, Ponk was motionless. His eyes didn’t leave one single spot in her closet: a spot she could only presume was taken up by Skeppy and Bad. 

“Private?” The man called, taking a step to the side so he could better see into Niki’s bedroom and simultaneously blocking her view entirely. “Something the matter?”

A beat passed, Ponk’s fingers mere inches away from the gun. One quick movement and he could have grabbed it, two pulls of the trigger and Bad and Skeppy could be dead, and the three soldiers could have Niki, Velvet and Ant arrested for harbouring a foreigner. Everyone in the apartment held their breath, whether they recognised it or not, as they awaited Ponk’s answer. 

“No, Sir.” He called. “Just a woman’s closet. They go on forever.” He joked, closing the door and turning to look back at the group in Niki’s room with a smile that looked a little out of place on his face. When the man in the suit stepped away and Niki could see Ponk again, she could see just how uncomfortable he was. His stance wasn’t like that of the other soldiers, and the joke he made looked to have been more forced than the comments and looks the other men had given her downstairs. The way that he’d hesitated before responding and the way he stood now set Niki’s mind ablaze

Of course, there was a chance that Skeppy and Bad were hidden elsewhere - or hidden  _ better  _ than Niki had expected - but maybe it was something else. Maybe, in Ponk, there was a promise of hope. Maybe not everyone had been corrupted in the way that Schlatt wanted them to be.

But that was painfully wishful thinking, and Niki didn’t want to give herself hope that would only be taken away moments later.

“Well then, Miss Nihachu, we’ll be on our way.” The man in the suit smiled. “Thank you very much, and it was lovely to meet you. We’ll have your new identity card sent out to you as soon as possible, and if your answers to the questions mean you qualify to take part in any of the healthcare reforms, we’ll be in touch.” He offered out his hand again, and Niki didn’t delay in taking it this time. She told herself that all she had to do was shake his hand, and he’d be gone. 

After the gesture was shared, he indicated for her to lead the way back downstairs, and she did as prompted. The walk down the thirteen steps was much quicker this time, her eyes remained open as she guided the four through the bakery and the cafe, and she reached the door to the street in near record time. It was only when she pulled the door open and looked back to them that she realised they hadn’t followed her all the way.

This time, the man in the suit was looking at the notes on her table.

She swallowed, her lips parting a little as if to say something to explain herself, but there was nothing she  _ could  _ say that wouldn’t place her deeper in the hole that she already found herself in.

“You’re very creative, Miss Nihachu.” The man said, turning over one of the pieces of paper. “But I’m not sure that this is  _ quite  _ the kind of fiction that you should be indulging in. No need to tarnish the reputation of our great Empire, even if it is all just a fantasy.”

“Yes, of course.” Niki nodded quickly. “Just a story.”

The man in the suit could tell that she’d lied, and she could tell that he knew that, but he had no real proof of the fact. He looked over the top of the paper, pushed his glasses further up his nose for a second time since he’d arrived, then scrunched up the paper with his hand. 

“We’ll confiscate these, then, and have them disposed of for you. I’d advise that if you have any other  _ creative urges,  _ that you try to find a more  _ honest  _ outlet for them.” He said, and the soldiers behind him picked up the papers as he implied. It only took a moment for all the research and work she’d done to be removed from the table, and her grip on the door became that much tighter. The hand that held the handle shook, her knuckles were white, and she tried to push everything she felt aside as the four made their way carelessly across the floor of her cafe. The three soldiers stepped out of the door immediately, while the man in the suit stopped in front of her for a moment.

“You  _ are _ a good woman, Miss Nihachu.” He said quietly, the same wicked, toothy grin from before appearing. “I suggest that you try to keep such a reputation intact.”

With that, he stepped over the threshold and back onto the cobblestone street, and Niki closed the door behind him with a poisonous smile. As soon as the latch clicked into place, she grabbed the key and twisted it until the door locked, and she raced to the window to peer through the curtains to watch as the men walked away.

There were  _ far  _ too many different emotions that she felt in that moment, and the only way she could process them all initially was by reaching to grab a cushion from one of the seats beside the fireplace and bury her face in it - screaming as loud as she could. She was terrified, violated, angry and impassioned: the visit had served to both infuriate her and provide further drive to set her plan in motion.

The scream - while muffled enough to not be heard by the now distant men - attracted the attention of her friends from upstairs, and by the time the cushion was placed neatly back on the seat the door to the bakery opened and four men appeared. Ant and Velvet came out first, followed by Skeppy and Bad only when they confirmed that the coast was clear.

“What happened?” Velvet asked. “What did they say?”

“They took  _ everything.”  _ Niki whispered angrily, sitting herself down as she felt her legs beginning to turn to jelly while her frustration was traded for relief that flooded her body. “They read all of my notes and they took them. They know  _ everything  _ I’ve been thinking.”

“It’s in code!” Ant said hopefully, and Niki shook her head.

“Some of it’s in code, not enough. I don’t think they’ll figure out everything that was said but they’ll put two and two together. They’ll be able to tell from the fact that some of the writing is nonsensical, and some is explicitly criticising the acts of Schlatt. Even if they can’t crack the code, they’ll be able to understand what it’s for.”

She let out a sigh, her hands coming to her face again and rubbing at her eyes in frustration. A moment passed - filled only with the sounds of her friends moving to sit beside her - before she looked up with a curious expression of her face.

“Where were you two hiding?” She asked Bad and Skeppy.

“In your closet.” Bad replied. “I thought we’d been caught by one of the soldiers, but he did nothing. I’m not sure he saw us.”

“He  _ definitely  _ saw us.” Skeppy said. “He looked like he was going to shoot us.”

“But he didn’t.” Bad added.

“He wanted to.” Skeppy finished, and Niki hummed quietly to herself as she thought.

“No.” She said eventually, shaking her head. “He didn’t want to shoot you. If he did, you’d be dead. The soldiers and that  _ disgusting  _ man would all have arrested or killed you - and us - if they’d seen you. But the Private didn’t. He saw you, he considered following whatever orders he was given, and he didn’t. He lied. He lied and he kept you safe.”   
  


When the four contemplated her words, but said nothing in return, Niki clasped her hands together and let herself smile. The memories of what had been said and done by the unwelcome visitors were quickly pushed from her mind and, instead, replaced with a plan.

“Ant, Velvet, I need you to enlist in the army.”

“What?!” Ant exclaimed.

“Are you serious?!” Velvet scoffed.

“Yes!” She beamed, an airy laugh leaving her lips. “Clearly, whatever Schlatt is trying to do requires the full support of the military, and whatever that is there’s people already there that  _ can’t  _ do what they’re told. There’s  _ good people!  _ Good people that, if we can access, we can get on our side. We’re never going to win this if the military is with Schlatt, we can’t just sow the seeds of revolution with the public. Schlatt can plant his symbolic trees, but so can we. This is our chance!”

Ant and Velvet shared a look - one that Niki could tell was nervous and unsure - but when their eyes returned to her the two of them nodded. 

“We trust you, Niki. I just hope you’re right.” Ant said.

“So do I.” Niki replied thoughtfully. “So do I.”

# # #

Technoblade woke up.

For most people, waking up wasn’t a novelty. It was routine, it happened every day without fail, and it was never a surprise. But for Technoblade, opening his eyes was so much more than just surprising. Feeling air rush past his lips and into his lungs, feeling his body responding to the firing of neurons in his brain and impulses jumping through his synapses, and being able to observe his surroundings, was nothing short of a miracle. 

The last thing he remembered seeing was his teammate being blown to smithereens - parts of Tubbo flying all across the Dodgebolt arena (and the bits too small to be chunks leaving a paste of blood and guts across the floor) - by Tommy. 

Tommy wasn’t on his team, but he’d spent more time with the boy than he had most other competitors and he  _ knew  _ that Tommy and Tubbo had gone into the Championships as close friends. For most of the competition, they’d remained that way too, although after the last of Tommy’s teammates had died during Hole in the Wall he had become understandably more distant. After his close call with death in To Get To The Other Side Tubbo had taken care of him, but he’d still come back fighting and done well in Ace Race, and he’d still scored points in Sands of Time. He was a tough kid, he was resilient, he was thoroughly deserving of his place in the competition.

He also knew that Tommy wasn’t a bad kid. One problem that Technoblade had - among many at that point in time, he reasoned - was that when Tommy had started to close off he’d been too busy trying to keep  _ everyone  _ alive to figure out what was happening. Schlatt had greeted them all in Dodgebolt on the server, and if he was behind everything that had happened up until this point then there was a chance that he’d been on the server for longer. Maybe, when Tommy had been alone, Schlatt had seized the opportunity. Maybe he’d been manipulating the boy. Tommy didn’t strike Technoblade as the sort of person to fire a rocket into the chest of his best friend for no reason - Schlatt had clearly promised him something in return for his allegiance, and Tommy had clearly been enticed enough to take it.

Technoblade found that he couldn’t blame him. If he’d been that age, in that situation, he’d probably have agreed to anything he was asked to do in return for something as simple as protection. Hell, he’d probably have done it for less: he was weak to peer pressure. Tommy had at least seemed to be a little more resistant to Schlatt’s demands.

Despite the fact that Tubbo had been killed, Technoblade couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for the kid. His last act had been to offer himself up to keep his best friend safe - though he seemed to be resigned to the fact that there’d been no way out for him. It was a kind of maturity and level-headedness that impressed even him. If he wasn’t dead, he’d have gone far. 

Though something else came to mind, then. 

Shouldn’t  _ he  _ be dead?

He remembered that, after Tommy had walked away from killing Tubbo, the blade that had been pressed roughly against his neck for some time moved. It moved quickly, with a great deal of force behind it, and suddenly he felt a phantom pain where his skin had been pierced. After a second his mouth opened and he coughed, the choking sensation of blood in his throat and lungs returning, and he gasped desperately for air. Nothing was keeping him from breathing, he was  _ fine,  _ but his mind refused to let him believe that. He wanted to claw at his throat and when he tried to move his hands he found that he was restrained.

His mind then wanted to go in two separate directions. 

Firstly - if he’d been killed by Schlatt (which, he couldn’t see himself surviving his throat being slit with a netherite blade), how was he awake? No one else had respawned, but then his surroundings looked nothing like the Championship server. Had he woken up in his body? Was he back in the physical world? Did that mean that  _ everyone  _ that had died on the server still had a chance? 

Secondly - what the hell was going on? Schlatt had told him that he would be the first to know - that the contestants were  _ guinea pigs -  _ and he knew that didn’t exactly bode well: being used as a guinea pig by a self declared leader of an Empire didn’t sound like a particularly  _ good thing.  _

“You’re awake, welcome back to the land of the living.” 

The voice that spoke was familiar, and it took a moment for Technoblade to work out that it  _ wasn’t  _ Schlatt, but one of the other men that he’d associated himself with while informing the survivors what had happened. The accent was unmistakable.

“Scott?” He asked unsurely, finding that he was unable to move his head enough to look at the source of the sound.

“That’s right!” The reply was far too cheerful for Technoblade’s liking, and he growled.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“He’s doing his job.” Schlatt said, and Technoblade heard footsteps wandering closer to him before a face - Schlatt’s face - appeared above him, filling his entire vision. “His job, now, is my Secretary of Health.”

“Fancy title, am I right?” Scott asked. “A long way from an apprentice with Noxcrew.”

“Oh, but you deserve it.” Schlatt replied, and his face turned away from Technoblade momentarily - Schlatt taking a long drink from a flask. “Now, Techno, you might be wondering what’s going on here--”

“Yeah.” He replied dryly. _ “Might be.”  _

“--I don’t  _ have  _ to tell you.” Schlatt said. “Maybe I won’t.”

“Why can’t I move?” Technoblade asked, and Schlatt scoffed in response.

“Really? The great Technoblade can’t figure out why he can’t move? Jesus Christ, man, I’m starting to rethink using you for this. I only want the best but if you can’t even figure that out--”

“You’re strapped to a table.” Scott supplied. “You were downloaded about a week ago, we’ve slowly eased you off the anaesthetic, you’re still on an IV though. You’ve woken up a couple of times, but this is the first time you’ve actually been lucid enough for a conversation.”

“I thought I was doing the talking, Scott.” Schlatt said, though to Technoblade his tone seemed friendly. He supposed if they’d been working together to plan this whole affair that it was only natural they’d be on good terms.

“Couldn’t help myself. Besides, if you want to shut me up y’can do it yourself.”

Technoblade could  _ hear  _ the wink, and he wished that he was still unconscious. Whatever they had planned for him, it couldn’t be worse than the torture of having to listen to Scott flirting.

“So why am I strapped to a table? Surely if you wanted something from me you could’ve taken it while I was still unconscious. Unless you’ve already harvested all my organs and sold them to fund your militia.”

“I’m not a monster, Technoblade.” Schlatt replied. “I’ve not taken all your organs, and as far as I’m aware Scott isn’t planning on doing that either.”

“Nope, no organ removal, you’re free to keep those for now.” Scott said. “Though I  _ might  _ be a little bit more of a monster than Schlatt. I wanted you awake for this. It’s not fun unless you can hear them scream.”

Technoblade’s skin crawled at the implications of his statement, and when Schlatt disappeared from his vision he found himself staring up at the ceiling, pondering what was going to happen next. As his eyes squinted against the bright light - focusing instead on the cracks in the white plaster above his head - he went through every awful procedure that could make him scream but leave his organs where they were meant to be. It was a fruitless mental exercise - there were  _ far  _ too many options and there was no way of him even looking side to side to see what tools there were that could provide context clues into what was about to happen to him.

“Do I at least get some kind of pain relief?”

“Do I look like a monster?” Scott asked, his voice a little louder as he came closer and leaned over Technoblade - his head popping into view, silhouetted by the bulb behind him.

Ironically, it looked like the man had a halo, but he was acting far from saintly at that moment.

“Yes.” Technoblade said flatly, and Scott just grinned a little wider.

“Good!” He smirked. “You’re not getting any pain relief at all.”

Technoblade huffed, but he found himself somehow unsurprised. He’d considered Scott a friend - not a particularly close one, but a friend all the same - and yet as he proved the very opposite to be true he seemed to be unvexed. Scott had always held the potential to be evil, to put it bluntly.

“Do I get a hint so I can prepare myself?”

“You can have one. I need to roll you over. Don’t try escaping, by the way, you’re hooked up to far too many machines and you’re far too weak to try.”

As Technoblade felt the restraints that held him in place being removed, he considered Scott’s words for a moment. On the one hand, why should he trust him? The man was about to do something horrific to him - hurt him in some unimaginably horrible way - lying to him was hardly a huge crime in comparison. But at the same time, why wouldn’t he? Scott was working with Schlatt, and Scott worked with the Noxcrew. They had the technology required to sedate dozens of people for nearly a week - possibly longer, if his recovery time was to be believed - there was no way in hell they didn’t have ways to keep him weak beyond the stasis chambers. Even if he  _ did  _ manage to escape, if L’Manburg was now an Empire under Schlatt’s control then he’d be lucky to get much further than the room he was currently in. He didn’t know where the room was, or how well protected it was. Sure, remaining here might cause some temporary pain, but attempting an escape would almost certainly result in  _ more  _ pain.

He might die, if he was lucky, but he was back in the real world now. There wasn’t even the  _ chance  _ to respawn here.

He let Scott roll him onto his front, using the brief moment of mobility to try and glance at the tools beside him before Scott began to reattach the restraints. Technoblade wasn’t exactly a medical expert, but he knew enough to know that thick, metal syringes and needles were  _ never  _ a good sign.  _ Especially  _ without pain relief. 

Technoblade felt the fabric of his shirt being pushed higher up his back, then the cool air of whatever the hell room he was in against his skin. It only lasted for a moment before he felt something else - a cold, wet wipe rubbing against the back of his pelvis, and he swallowed nervously. Now that he was on his front he could see a little more of the room, and one of the things he could see was Schlatt sitting in a chair a few meters away, sipping from his flask and puffing on a cigar as he watched on.

“Just business, Techno.” He shrugged, blowing smoke from his lips and giving Technoblade a half smile. “I promised I was gonna make my Empire strong, and with the finest Minecrafters in the best condition - physically and mentally - of their lives, how was I supposed to resist?”

“What are you  _ doing?”  _ Technoblade hissed, feeling something sharp pressing against him. As something pierced his skin he let out a grunt of pain, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment while he tried to adjust to the sensation. He had a horrible feeling that it was going to get worse before it got better.

“Look, I want the people of Manburg to be strong. I want the next generation - the generation that my  _ son  _ will inherit and lead - to be warriors just like you. And the best way to do that is to put part of you in them.” Schlatt paused, taking another puff from his cigar, before crossing one leg over the other and leaning back, his arms spread out as if he were showing something off. In his eyes, he probably  _ ewas.  _ “Healthcare reforms, I like to call it. A generation of warriors. A generation of Technoblades. Maybe if we drain you dry, we’ll take something from the runners up. HBomb and Krinios did a pretty good job, too. If Dream hadn’t gone off the deep end when he killed his little boyfriend, maybe he’d have been here instead of you.”

“You’re  _ sick.”  _ Technoblade spat, before letting out a gasp as he felt something poking at the incision Scott had made on his back. At first, the pain was a dull (but constant) throbbing, and then as the tool was pushed deeper into him - through layers of skin, nerves, and blood vessels - he let out a louder cry.

“Sick, maybe.” Schlatt smirked. Technoblade yelled then - an incoherent slew of curses leaving his lips as he felt the tip of whatever Scott was poking into him scratching against bone. The pain, now, was agonising, and tears were welling up in his eyes. No matter what Schlatt said, he didn’t  _ feel  _ like a warrior anymore. “But a damn good plan.” He finished, just as Scott pushed the metal through the cortical bone and into the marrow at the centre. The pain wasn’t dull anymore, but sharp and continual, and a simple yell wasn’t enough. 

When he screamed, he heard laughter coming from the two other men in the room, and his vision began to darken at the edges. He prayed that unconsciousness would claim him, that he wouldn’t have to suffer through the hurt any longer, but each time he came close to the sweet release of sleep - each time his head became light - a surge of pain would coarse through his body and wake him up all over again.

“C’mon, Technoblade, it’s not  _ that  _ bad.” Scott said. “We’ve nearly done the first part. I’ve got half the samples I need. And besides, this is just the syringe! If you can’t handle it, I don’t know what’s going to happen when I get the bigger needle.”

The prospect of that not  _ being  _ the bigger needle hadn’t crossed Technoblade’s mind before that moment, and he found even as Scott spoke that it still didn’t. He couldn’t perceive anything else around him other than the pain he felt, and he was completely incapable of imagining anything but the thing sticking out of his back that was draining liquid from his bones. 

He wasn’t sure how much time passed - really, he wasn’t sure of  _ anything  _ other than the red hot pain that ran through his veins - but eventually the syringe was removed from his back and a rush of endorphins was released into his blood. Instead of continuing to feel the same torment he’d been experiencing over the last few minutes, he felt relief, and his breathing was slow and deep. His eyes fluttered closed as his mouth hung open - a little saliva drooling from the corner of his lips and onto the surface beneath him. He’d never felt like this before in his life and despite the pain that had come before it, he’d be happy if he could spend the rest of his days in a semi-lucid state like this. He felt utterly euphoric. 

“We’re not done yet.” Scott reminded him, but Technoblade barely even had the strength to hum in response. He felt something - faintly - wiping down over the incision on his back, and he was halfway aware of the sting that came with it, but it wasn’t until the  _ bigger needle  _ was placed against him that he was ripped cruelly out of numb state. 

Clearly wanting to cause pain, Scott pushed hard and fast with the needle, and Technoblade felt his entire body spasm when he let out a cry. The endorphins were no match for the sharp tip that carved through his bone in a perfect circle. Instead of remaining dazed and spaced-out, Technoblade felt sweat dripping from his forehead and tears streaming down his cheeks. He felt his stomach knotting and nausea rising. He felt his lungs desperate for air, his throat closed up and his mouth dry. He was panting, desperate for it to end, and a choked sob left him as his body began to shake.

And then, as suddenly as the torment had begun, it stopped. Instead he felt a sharp stinging on his face. He could hear Scott moving around behind him - walking away from him - and he began to focus on his surroundings once more. Schlatt stood before him, his fingers closed together and palm just a few inches away from his face, and even after such agony Technoblade was able to put the pieces together.

Somehow, the pain of being slapped by Schlatt after having a syringe and needle stuck in his back and parts of his bone and its marrow taken from him hurt less than the shame of it all. The pain slowly faded away as his body released more endorphins, and this time the feeling was so much more intense. He wasn’t just light headed, he was barely able to keep his eyes open. He knew he wouldn’t manage to be conscious for much longer, and he didn’t know what was going to happen to him the next time he woke up. Maybe this would happen over and over until he was rendered utterly useless, maybe Scott and Schlatt would try to pressure him into being of more use to them - not just physically, but politically - or maybe he simply wouldn’t wake up again.

As his body started to feel heavier and he crept ever closer to unconsciousness, he found that he was unable to open his mouth to speak. He wasn’t going to be able to give one final stubborn word, one last insult to his captors and torturers - even if he wanted to - but his mind did manage to produce one last coherent thought.

_ If they’d done this to him, what the hell were they going to do to the others? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tldr time!
> 
> \- niki is visited by a government official responsible for the census, & as well as asking normal census questions asks some very invasive questions pertaining to reproductive status. soldiers that have accompanied the official nearly find skeppy and bad, who've been hidden away in niki's closet. thankfully the soldier that looks in the closet, ponk, lies & says there's no one there. after they leave - taking with them the notes niki has been making on her suspicions about schlatt - she convinces ant & velvet to join the military & infiltrate from there
> 
> \- technoblade wakes up ~somewhere~. he's strapped to a table & speaks with schlatt & scott, who's now revealed to be schlatt's secretary of health. schlatt alludes to making the next generation of manburg stronger by putting a part of technoblade in them, & scott performs a bone marrow aspiration as the first step of this.
> 
> \---
> 
> thank you for reading, i promise the next chapter isn't going to be *quite* as intense as this one! as always, feel free to yell at me in the comments section, i really will not be surprised if you need to curse me out for this because my god are things getting dark! if you're enjoying the fic, consider leaving a kudos, & i'll see you all in the next update!


	16. The Room Where It Happens

As summer had begun to turn to autumn, several things had happened in Manburg. Niki thought about them as she walked alongside Ant and Velvet through the streets of the city, though she tried to focus on the  _ little things  _ that happened reliably, because of the Earth turning as it always had and always would, and not because Schlatt had usurped power with a military that supported him. Just the flicker of Schlatt crossing her mind was enough for her hands to form tight fists in her pockets.

She took in a breath, relaxed her shoulders, unfurrowed her brows and stepped into a puddle, smiling as droplets splashed over her boots. There were still little things to find joy in, and those little things would be the sparks of light that got her through the night that was drawing in on Manburg.

Niki thought about the changing of the seasons, about how quickly the world around her had gone from hot, long summer days with endless blue skies to clouds, rainstorms, and gusty winds. She  _ loved  _ autumn. She loved watching the leaves change colour - from a beautiful viridian green to yellow, speckled with gold and outlined with orange. She loved the storms rolling in from the ocean in the west, watching as the sky bubbled ominously during the evenings and the sunset was hidden behind dark clouds. Birds, migrating south for the winter, were chased from their temporary homes by the rolls of thunder and flashes of lightning. The temperature began to drop - though it was still early in the fall and by midday there was always a warmth to the air - and the occasional cold snap that would leave the world waking up to a blanket of frost wasn’t all that unusual.

To Niki, the autumn was so much more  _ varied.  _ The sun beating down on your shoulders was taken for granted far less, though on the days where not a single ray managed to fight its way through the clouds there was always the option of a warm mug of tea and a good book to fill the cold evenings - beginning to draw in quickly now - with comfort and familiarity. 

Rain was plentiful in the autumn, and today was no exception. She had her hood covering her head as she walked, though out of the corner of her eyes she could still see Ant and Velvet holding hands. Among everything that had happened, all the terrible things that were unfolding, she was happy for them. They hadn’t told her yet, but she could sense the difference between them, and she wasn’t about to pry her nose into business she had no right in knowing. 

Besides, there was plenty more to occupy her mind.

The city had expanded beyond the original walls of the war, with homes and businesses sprawling into the undulating fields beyond, but before long the trio had reached the city limits. Even here, far from the political centre of Manburg, the streets were quiet. There were still people out and about - and there were more people that seemed to be leaving their homes for simple recreation - but Niki could see in their eyes there was still a sense of trepidation that clung to them all.

Maybe it was because nearly two weeks had passed since the alleged attack on their infrastructure by a -  _ still unspecified -  _ foreign power. Maybe they feared a war was brewing behind the closed doors of the Government, maybe they worried that the countryside that surrounded them would soon be filled with bloodshed and war. The world had changed since the last great wars, and trench warfare had been replaced with threats of nuclear arsenals being deployed. 

It was no secret that Manburg had access to nuclear weapons, and if there  _ were  _ to be a war then escalating tensions and growing threats would loom over the lives of every man, woman and child in the city. There would be nothing anyone could do if those tensions snapped.

As the buildings came to an end and the path beneath their feet was no longer cobblestone, but dirt, the three continued to walk in near silence. Their boots crunched on the ground beneath them as they walked through a wooden gate, and the path took them through a small patch of woodland. It meant that the worst of the rain was kept away from them, and as the dirt trail began to climb gently upward Niki pushed her hood back, away from her face, and turned to her friends.

“He picked a nice spot, at least.” She said, almost disgruntled by how scenic of a location the tree was planted in. Ant and Velvet looked to her, though their hands didn’t part, and nodded.

“People look to like it.” Ant nodded his head toward the crowd of people standing at the side of the path a few hundred meters away. The trees they were currently walking through didn’t stretch quite that far and that meant that the Tree of Manburg took center stage, claiming all the attention that Schlatt clearly wanted it to have.

The group became quiet once more, and as they passed the treeline and reentered the drizzle from before, they could hear the mumbles of people standing around the tree.

_ ‘I’ve heard that his son chose this spot--” _

_ ‘If there’s going to be a war, what good is a tree going to do?’ _

_ ‘The man at the butchers reckons they’ll be drafting people in soon.’ _

_ ‘I don’t know what’s going on, I just want them to tell us the full picture.’ _

_ ‘He doesn’t look all that much like Schlatt’s kid, too tall and skinny and blond. What about that other one? Not Quig, the kid that joined this year--’ _

_ ‘We should’ve done this sooner. Manburg is stronger than the rest of the world thinks it is, we’ll show ‘em who’s boss!’ _

Niki kept her head low, trying not to react to the various conversations she heard around her. She didn’t  _ like  _ hearing those that supported the Government - and what it was doing - but she knew that her disliking of Schlatt only truly grew into some kind of solid, tangible thing because she’d seen first hand what he was doing, and had gone out of her way to learn more. If these people hadn’t been put at any disadvantage by his policies over the last few weeks, why would they care? They were Human, and she’d never blame them.

She just hoped that with enough time and effort, she’d be able to change enough minds to take Schlatt down.

Niki muttered several quiet apologies to people as she squeezed her way through the crowd until she stood at the front of the group and could see not just the tree, but the little plaque that had been installed in front of it too. Her eyes glanced down, looking at the metal image of the horizon, before reading the short text below.

_ ‘The Tree of Manburg, planted on the 17th September 2020, is a symbol of the Empire of Manburg. As our Empire grows and our people become stronger, the tree too shall grow.’  _

She scowled, looking up to the tree and narrowing her eyes at it. As expected it was small, young, and would take years to grow into anything even  _ slightly  _ impressive, but she supposed that was the point. Schlatt wanted people to have a sense of pride in their Empire, and watching a symbol growing before their very eyes would likely instill that exact feeling in the people.

He was smart, and Niki hated that about him.

Her hands balled into fists in her pockets once again, and with that motion she felt her fingers brush against something.

The key to her bakery.

She smiled as an idea came to, and Niki tilted her head ever so slightly - just enough that she could glance behind her without really drawing that much attention to herself - before she took another step forward. One hand emerged from her pocket holding her key and small drops of rain landed on the metal. As she began her first act of rebellion, she started to quietly sing.

“I heard there was a special place…” Her singing was soft and sweet, a gentle melody to those that could hear as she brought the key to the metal plaque. She pressed the tip firmly against the surface and began to scratch - her hand motioning back and forth across the phrase  _ ‘Tree of Manburg’. _

“... Where men could go and emancipate...” She’d already gained the attention of those around her, and she could hear people wondering aloud what she was doing. Niki continued to scratch at the metal, until the words were utterly unreadable.

“... The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers.” She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped, letting out a gasp as her head whipped around to see the man from before - the one who’d been so  _ happy  _ about the Empire - facing her. His cheeks were puffed out and his face was red, and his eyes looked as if they were about to explode from his head with anger. Before he could do anything more, or even get out one of the  _ many  _ curses that seemed to be on the tip of his tongue, Ant and Velvet were pulling him back. 

Her heart was racing, her breathing was shallow, but the man was now several paces away from her. A quick glance to her friends - and nods from them both - was enough to spur her on. She forgot about the man foaming at the mouth for the simple act of vandalisation, and she forgot about the number of cameras now pointed at her. She needed to start  _ somewhere,  _ and since everything she’d gathered so far had been taken this would have to do.

“Well, that place is real, you needn’t fret…” She started to sing again, her voice stronger and more determined than before as she moved on from scraping away the existing words to etching in new ones. Niki grit her teeth together between lines she sang, letting out grunts of effort as the word began to take shape.

“... With the people here,  _ fuck Schlatt!”  _ There was a grin on her face now, saying such a phrase publicly, and with her venom on show for all to see, was freeing. She wanted to say it more, and louder, and to more and more people.  _ Fuck. Schlatt.  _

“It’s a very big and not blown up L’Manburg.” The word was almost written out how she wanted it, and with one final stroke her act was complete.

If Schlatt wanted to plant a tree then fine,  _ let him have his tree,  _ but Niki wouldn’t let him turn that tree into a symbol of hope for an oppressive system. As long as she lived, there would be no  _ Tree of Manburg,  _ but instead a  _ L’Mantree  _ would stand proud over the city.

“My L’Manburg, my L’Manburg…” Her shoulders fell, her hands moved back to her sides and tucked back into her pockets as she turned around to face the crowd behind her with a satisfied smile on her face.

“... My L’Manburg, my L’Manburg.”

It was hard to tell how people were reacting to her actions. For the most part, their expressions were neutral and their thoughts muted, but their eyes betrayed them.

The truth was  _ always  _ visible in someone’s eyes.

So Niki began to walk away, leaving the crowd equally confused and curious, and as she started back down the dirt path to return to the city, Ant and Velvet released their grip on the man. They offered the crowd a wave and a nod, giving them polite smiles, before shoving their hands into their own pockets and following after Niki. Three pairs of footsteps made their way through the - now much lighter - rain and back toward her bakery to see Skeppy and Bad, full of hope for the future after the success of Niki’s one small act of revolt.

But the act being small didn’t render it without meaning or impact. The smallest actions had the largest consequences, and the seeds of rebellion had been planted not just in the minds of Niki and her small group of friends, but now in the minds of the public. 

The wheel was beginning to turn, the ball beginning to roll, and now more than ever Niki would let nothing stand in her way.

# # #

Tommy - quite frankly - had expected power to be  _ more thrilling  _ than this. 

When someone mentioned  _ power,  _ when someone offered you the position of  _ heir to an Empire,  _ you wouldn’t think of all the boring bits of paperwork that needed to take place. Tommy had imagined power with much more colour and excitement. He’d thought of brightly coloured suits, endless banquets with dozens of courses, parties, wine and (most importantly)  _ women.  _ The reality, he discovered quickly, was nothing even close to that.

Sure, he had the brightly coloured suit - today’s was a purple rendition of the one he’d worn on stage a week ago when he’d been introduced to the public - but aside from that? He was sitting at a long table, but there was no food in sight. There was no music, no people dancing, no alcohol, and the only women there were… Well…  _ Boring.  _

Everyone sat around the long table, with Schlatt at the head and Tommy by his side, and they all flicked through long documents that  _ everyone  _ seemed to have read and memorised (except for him, of course). He didn’t like sitting still for so long - beneath the table his leg was restlessly bouncing - but Schlatt had insisted he’d come. He had to learn, he was told, and maybe he would.  _ Eventually  _ he would. Schlatt was his father, Schlatt had kept him safe, and one day he would be sitting where Schlatt was - he’d be in charge of it all. He  _ supposed  _ that meant he owed it to the man to pay attention.

For today, at least, no one seemed to say anything as his eyes left the documents in front of him and instead wandered to look at the paintings on the walls, the intricate carvings in the wooden beams that supported the high ceiling above them, and the glowstone chandelier that illuminated the room despite the storm outside.

Eventually his eyes drifted out of the window behind Scott, looking over his shoulder as he watched the world go by. It was only a matter of time until the man - his former teammate and now the Secretary of Health - looked up from his documents and shot Tommy a glare.

He  _ supposed  _ he could start paying attention now.

“Rumay, how far did you say we’d gotten with the census?” Scott asked, and Tommy looked up and down the table to figure out who he was addressing. He should have been able to recognise the names and faces of the Cabinet Secretaries, but it was another thing on his  _ to do  _ list that he’d pushed to one side like any other teenager would.

“A third of the way through so far.” A woman - presumably Rumay - replied, and Tommy’s eyes lit up. He remembered her, the Secretary of Communities, with her hair in a neat dark bob, and her work  _ very much  _ in order. She was the sort of person that knew what she was doing, and did it well:  _ frighteningly  _ well. Really, it would do Tommy good to be on the right side of her, so he sat up a little straighter and tried to focus.

“Do you have any data extracted from the survey’s yet?” Scott asked. “I’m sure Lauren would find it useful, too.”

“It’s not quite as pressing for my needs.” Lauren - the Secretary of Defense - replied. “I’ve already spoken with General Punz about his plans for conscription, I’m of the opinion that we should wait a while before such a move is executed. We’ll be running recruitment drives soon, but if people see themselves as being pushed about too fast they might start to distrust our governance, and our Emperor.” Lauren nodded toward Schlatt. “But eventually, yes, that data  _ would  _ be helpful.”

Those sitting around the table nodded, before Rumay began to speak again.

“We’ve started working on it. As we have our own civil servants helping to input everything and it’s all done online, pulling the data together shouldn’t take too long. So far, it’s looking promising. There’s a high percentage of women eligible for the programme, approximately ten percent of the population surveyed so far are women between the ages of nineteen and thirty four.” 

“How many is that in numbers?” Scott asked.

“Just over twenty thousand.” Rumay replied. “Twenty thousand, four hundred and seventeen, to be exact. You’ll be looking at just over sixty thousand women eligible for the programme.”

“There, see, we  _ can’t  _ just use Technoblade.” Scott said with force behind his words, and Tommy found himself sitting even more upright at the mention of Technoblade. 

Technoblade was  _ dead.  _

He’d  _ seen  _ Technoblade die, Schlatt had slit his throat on the server in front of him, he’d watched the blood leak from the gash in his neck and seen his body fall forward…

… Except, he’d seen Scott die too… And, when the game was played normally, people died all the time, they just  _ respawned  _ before being redownloaded. Had they found a fix to whatever had gone wrong? Were the others being downloaded too?

More importantly, did that mean that  _ Tubbo was still okay? _

He’d lost track of the conversation happening around him, and when his thoughts faded away and the voices of the people that surrounded him came to be the loudest things in his mind once again, he was confused.

“--Unethical, even by our standards.” Schlatt finished whatever sentence he was saying, and Scott looked down at the paper before him, angry ink circles being drawn into the margin. 

That hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to,  _ clearly.  _

“Rumay, you emailed this morning about a report from one of your people…” Noxite spoke up. He was the Secretary of Justice, Tommy remembered (although he was starting to run out of the number of titles and names of people he could remember). 

“Oh, yes, sorry your Imperial Majesty, but we didn’t have time to specifically add this to the agenda.” She said. “However, you ought to know now. While conducting a search yesterday evening, one of my groups found something.” Her fingers moved to flick through the documents before her, and the smile on her face was enough to make Tommy feel queasy. She really  _ did  _ scare him.  _ “Someone  _ isn’t a fan of you. We found this…” With that, she pulled a thin dossier from her file and slid it along the table. It came to a halt just in front of Quackity - the Secretary of the Economy, Finance, and Business - who pushed it the rest of the way. As Schlatt caught the manila envelope and opened it up, Rumay continued with her point.

“Miss Nihachu, lives in an apartment above a bakery on Simons Street. It appears that she’s taken a disliking to you - to all of us - and she’s been keeping a close eye on everything we’ve been doing.”

“Huh.” Schlatt muttered quietly, the room falling silent as his eyes scanned across the hastily written notes made by the woman in question.

Tommy swallowed as the man reached for a glass of whiskey on the table before him - wincing as he remembered how early in the morning it was - and he watched as Schlatt gulped it down in one go, barely reacting to the burn that he remembered experiencing when he’d tried the sip of alcohol in the team lodgings.

It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d been sitting with Technoblade, Wilbur, Phil and Tubbo, laughing, full of excitement for the future. He wasn’t sure how that memory made him feel now.

“We’d like to keep an eye on her.” Noxite said. “Nothing formal just yet, but this is the first real case of dissent we’re seeing and we’d like to make sure it doesn’t spread. Like Lauren said, we don’t want people to think we’re going  _ too far,  _ we need them to learn to trust us, giving them a little more perceived freedom after that brief shutdown was a good start but we’ll need more trust in the long term, and if we immediately have people following her every action then more people will start thinking that there’s something going on that we’re trying to suppress.”

“What do you suggest?” Schlatt asked, placing the file of documents before him to read later, and clasping his hands together. 

“For now, we’ll just make a note of her name, her address, and her business. If we have any more reports of  _ goings on  _ that have anything about her attached to them, then we’ll have to act a little more decisively.”

Schlatt nodded, his legs crossing beneath the table.

“Alright. You’re the Secretary of Justice, I trust you know what you’re doing.” He said. “Don’t let me down, Nox.”

“Oh, sir, you don’t know  _ how much  _ I’d like to bring her in right now and talk to her.” A smirk crept across his face, and for the second time that morning Tommy found himself uncomfortable because of the way these people looked. If he wasn’t Schlatt’s son, and didn’t have the promise of protection, he wasn’t sure that  _ he  _ would trust them, even if his father did.

“We don’t need a repeat of Jeoffrey quite so soon.” Scott said, and the two Secretaries laughed. Whoever - or  _ whatever  _ \- Jeoffrey was, Tommy didn’t want to find out.

“Alright, so, that’s the census covered, a little update into the health programme, and a decision taken about Miss Nihachu. All that’s left is an update into how the international stage is reacting. Five?”

Tommy slunk back into his seat again. If he was honest, listening to whatever Five had to say would probably be helpful. It would probably be  _ useful  _ to know what kind of international response there was to everything that had happened so far. But he was still a teenager, a teenager that wanted  _ protection,  _ and had come to want  _ power,  _ but hadn’t signed up for this level of responsibility. 

Maybe he’d focus better at tomorrow’s meeting. Maybe he’d speak to his father about  _ how  _ he could focus better. 

As Schlatt reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a flask - containing more alcohol, Tommy assumed - and quickly slung his head back to drink the contents, Tommy thought otherwise. Maybe it wouldn’t be the best idea to ask his father how to focus. Maybe, instead, he could speak to Scott.

Scott had had his back from the start of this, after all... Right?

# # #

After the incident at the tree, Niki and her friends had taken a few days to remain out of the spotlight. Niki’s bakery had remained open, people still came into the cafe, and she still hummed  _ My L’Manburg  _ under her breath whenever she pulled together an order for a customer (which, depending on the person or the day, could result in everything from a nostalgic smile to a judgemental stare and raised eyebrows, to verbal abuse and threats of physical violence). 

Bad and Skeppy still remained inside. The two worked away upstairs to make leaflets by hand with all the information against Schlatt they could find in them. They wanted to go outside,  _ desperately,  _ but Niki knew that it was too risky. Her new identity card arrived in the post, the census continued, they  _ had  _ to stay put. She could open windows and they could stick their head out when darkness fell and the streets were quiet, but they needed to remain indoors.

They  _ couldn’t  _ risk being seen a second time. There was no guarantee that every soldier - or every citizen - would turn a blind eye to their presence the same way that Ponk had done.

The next part of their plan was only enacted when General Punz announced that there was to be a recruitment drive for the military, a day where men of all ages were encouraged to head into the city centre and sign up if they could. 

It wasn’t a draft - that was made  _ emphatically  _ clear by all the posters and messaging that had been put out - rather an opportunity to help make Manburg great.  _ The Empire is only as strong as it’s army,  _ the advert said,  _ and the army will be stronger with you.  _ Niki had scoffed at the words and mentioned something about tapping into the toxic masculinity that was painfully present (and rearing its ugly head more so since L’Manburg had become Manburg) but none of them had been able to deny that it was the perfect opportunity for Ant and Velvet to sign themselves up without any real question of their motivation. If they were asked, they could just regurgitate the slogan:  _ they were strong, they loved Manburg, they wanted to help make Manburg stronger.  _

It was raining again - as it had done every day that week - and the two made their way into the city. They held hands, as they had become accustomed to doing whenever they were together, and they ignored the disapproving tuts sent their way.

It was as if everyone in the country felt free to disparage the mere existence of those they didn’t like - based upon absolute nothing - now that Schlatt had declared they were an Empire. Every day, people seemed more and more to think that  _ they  _ were the best their country had to offer, and they looked down on anyone and everyone that they believed were  _ less  _ than them, or even just  _ different.  _ People that didn’t look like them were assumed to be foreigners and Ant knew of two separate occasions where people had been reported to the authorities for this. He hadn’t seen those people since. It terrified him, the bigotry that was capable of existing, and the problem seemed to be spreading.

That said, no one seemed to be challenging their behaviour.

While they’d been speaking quietly to each other for much of their walk, their conversation had resorted to one spoken only through glances and gentle taps of fingers. They’d have to learn morse code, eventually, Ant thought to himself, and he chuckled. But mid-chuckle, he felt himself being pulled to the side and almost stumbled over his own feet as he caught himself. At least it was  _ Velvet  _ tugging him, that meant that whatever the reason was for the sudden movement it would be  _ good.  _ Or, it wouldn’t be  _ harmful.  _

He was pulled down a dark alleyway, a few squeaking rats and hissing cats fleeing into the darkness at the commotion they made, and when Ant looked at Velvet he saw nothing but love in his eyes. There was no disgust for their surroundings, just  _ adoration.  _

“Why did you--” Ant began, but found himself quickly silenced by Velvet as a finger came to press against his lips. It would almost seem romantic if they weren’t standing in the middle of a dirty back street.

“We’re joining the army.” He replied, as if it were obvious. “Even if they  _ don’t  _ figure out what we’re doing with Niki, Bad, and Skeppy, there’s still a lot of danger. One of us could get hurt, or if Schlatt  _ does  _ declare war on someone we could be fighting for our lives.”

“Velvet we’re not--” His voice was muffled by the finger pressed against his lips, and that only made it easier for Velvet to cut him off a second time.

“Don’t  _ say  _ we’re not.” He said firmly. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. What matters is… I don’t want to put myself in any kind of danger before we do this…” Ant felt his Velvet’s hands shifting. Instead of holding his hand loosely and pressing a finger to his lips, he was now moving a hand to rest on his hip and the other his shoulder. “If you don’t mind, that is. We don’t have to.” Velvet added, though even as he spoke his eyes fluttered to look at Ant’s lips and his tongue poked out to wet his own.

Ant laughed softly, his hair flopping to one side as his head moved and his lips turned into a wide smile. Despite that, Velvet  _ still  _ waited for an answer from him. Here, they were sheltered from the rain, and Ant pushed his hood back from his face before he said anything.

“I’d like it,  _ very much,  _ if we kissed right now.”

And that was the clearest permission that Velvet could have asked for. Ant felt himself stumbling - for the second time in just as many minutes - though this time he stopped when his back came up against a cool wall. Lips were pressed hungrily against his own, his eyes closed from the moment they made contact, and he felt sparks erupting in his stomach. This was the culmination of years of crushing on - at the time - the young boy that was kissing him now. They’d been friends for so long that the first time Ant had even  _ thought  _ about his friend like that, they’d still been children. The thoughts had turned into a crush as teenagers, and now as adults, that infatuation, that puppy love, had turned into the real thing. 

His hands found the small of Velvet’s waist and pulled him a little bit closer as he felt his lips being pushed gently open by the tongue of the other. He relaxed into the gesture, letting Velvet guide him through the experience and enjoying the feeling of their mouths moving together. It was like they fit, like they were meant to meet like this.

Maybe he wouldn’t have pictured their first fateful kiss in a damp alley on a rainy day, on the way to sign up for a corrupt military that worked with a corrupt Government, but he was kissing  _ Velvet.  _ He wouldn’t have it any other way.

A knee came between his legs, pushing them ever so slightly apart, and Velvet’s jeans brushed against the inside of his thigh. That extra little bit of contact sent Ant’s mind spiralling, he choked on his breath, and had to pull back from Velvet just so he could gasp in a little more air. 

The fact that they broke apart was almost enough for Ant to have been mad at the end of not just  _ their  _ first kiss together, but  _ his  _ first kiss, but the laughter that erupted from Velvet’s mouth and the grin on his face was more than worth it. Besides, there’d be  _ plenty  _ more opportunities for the two of them to share a moment like that again.

“Good?” Velvet managed to ask when he calmed himself down - and when Ant’s breathing had returned to a somewhat normal state. All he could do was nod, and Velvet’s smirk only widened. His ego  _ probably  _ didn’t need him to be speechless. 

“Plenty more where that came from, if you’d like.”

“Are they all like that?” Ant asked, a hand coming to scratch his head, fingers running through his curls just enough to ground him. “I’ve never actually kissed anyone before.”

Velvet’s face over the next few moments held several expressions: pride, fear, and concern the most obvious to Ant.

“You should have--  _ Ant!”  _ He exclaimed a little more loudly than necessary for the cramped space they were in. Ant felt Velvet taking him by the hand again, and the two of them started to make their way out of the alley. Anyone that saw them emerging would know  _ exactly  _ what they’d been up to, but Ant found that he didn’t care. If they were going to criticise them for holding hands, he might as well get something  _ more  _ out of it. “You should have said, I’d have gone a little easier on you.”

“Well, I don’t  _ want  _ you going easy on me.” Ant replied without a second thought, and he was pleased to see Velvet’s cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. He was the teaser more often than not, and Ant was more than happy to tuck the knowledge of what made him blush away to use at a later date.

“I might not have done the leg thing.” Velvet supplied, thinking on his statement for a moment before immediately rescinding it. “At least, I might have  _ warned you  _ about the leg thing.”

“I think I’ll get used to it.” Ant smiled, and as they emerged from the alley they continued on their walk toward the city centre - this time with  _ much  _ wider smiles filling their faces.

When they reached the square they found that the set up was larger than they were expecting. They’d anticipated a small stand where one of the market stalls usually was, but the tent that had been put up spanned almost the entire square. There were thousands of men mingling in a half-arsed line, speaking far too loudly, and Ant could practically  _ smell  _ the testosterone - especially from the middle aged men that seemed to be giving him and Velvet the most looks for holding hands. Joining the army had never been particularly appealing, but standing in a queue of beer bellys and overzealous, still spotty teenagers, didn’t do anything to make him want to join any more.

Still, they were doing this for their cause, for Niki, and Ant would suck up however long standing in the queue in the rain would take if it meant they were one step closer to taking down Schlatt at the end of it.

Unsurprisingly, the queue moved slowly, and the two filled their time talking idly about where they’d like to travel to one day. It seemed inconspicuous enough to not attract attention, and it served to give them something to hope for. Both men had a horrible gut feeling that things were going to get far,  _ far  _ worse in Manburg before they started to get better, and having something to get them through that - however small - would be necessary.

By the time they’d reached the front of the queue, they’d planned a ski trip to Snowchester in  _ extensive  _ detail, and had discussed a backpacking trip around Logsteadshire. From where they now stood they could see that there were at least three rows of ten soldiers sitting at desks to sign people up. Ant couldn’t help the quiet laugh at the difference between some of the soldiers and the recruits - their posture, their age, and their general health seemed to be worlds apart. 

When he was called forward he let go of Velvet’s hand and walked to the first free desk he found. As he sat down, the chair legs wobbled on the uneven cobblestone beneath him, and the soldier started to ask him questions. The first few were easy - why did he want to join? What did his family think of him joining? How would he cope with the discipline? - and it felt as if they were going to stay that way until the makeshift interview began to come to a close. One final question was asked, the one that  _ everyone  _ dreaded being asked at an interview.

“What is your biggest weakness?”

Ant sat for a moment and considered his answer, torn between his heartstrings and his head taking him two separate ways.

Truthfully, he knew what his biggest weakness was. He knew that he cared too damn much about those he loved. That if, for any reason, Velvet was in trouble, he’d throw everything aside to run to him. He knew that, if Niki needed him to do something, he’d listen to her rather than his superiors. He knew that if Bad or Skeppy were in danger, he’d protect them, even if he’d only known them for a few weeks. 

But he knew that admitting those things would put him at a disadvantage. He didn’t know how official of a process this was - if he was being scored against a specification or if this was all just a formality and everyone that showed up was going to shake a hand and go away as a soldier - but he couldn’t risk it all now.

“Public speaking.” He said, picking something that sounded  _ relatively believable  _ and that wouldn’t really matter. “I don’t have the confidence needed to get up on stage and speak in front of hundreds of people. Small groups of people, sure, and I know that with practice and time I’d definitely improve - I always try to improve myself - but if you asked me right now to get up on stage and address everyone here I’d stammer through it.”

The soldier before him nodded, wrote something down on a piece of paper on a clipboard, and hummed. Ant had to hope that the answer he’d given was good enough - that it didn’t sound too forced, or too fake - and that Velvet was having similar luck.

“Alright.” The man said, leaning forward and placing the clipboard down on the small, rickety desk between them. He held out his hand for Ant to take - which he did promptly - and the handshake was quick and firm.

“Welcome to the army.” The soldier told him, and Ant forced a smile to his face. That was  _ never  _ a sentence he’d thought that he’d be hearing, let alone one he thought he’d be smiling about hearing. “Follow the fences on your way out, give the guys at the end this piece of paper.” The conversation paused for a moment while the man scanned over the form on the clipboard once more, before taking it off and handing it to Ant. “They’ll give you everything you need. Uniform, schedule, the lot. If you don’t show up, you’ll be done for desertion. Understood?”

“Yes sir.” Ant said, letting his smile widen. “Thank you, sir.”

“Good to meet you. I’ll see you in training sometime, recruit.”

Ant got to his feet, as did the soldier, and he saluted before following the fences through the tent. Almost as soon as he’d stood up, the next man was sitting in his seat and his interview was beginning. He supposed any military operation - even one as simple as a recruitment drive - would be like a well oiled machine. As had been suggested, Ant was given a uniform in his size and asked to show up at oh-eight-hundred hours on the following Monday. 

Velvet was at his side a few minutes later, with a uniform in hand and the same instructions, and he let out a sigh of relief, tension he didn’t realise he’d been holding finally getting to leave his system. 

Whatever the hell they’d gotten themselves into, at least they were going to do it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's a much nicer chapter than last week i think!! if you enjoyed, please do leave a kudos & consider leaving a comment, it always makes my day!


	17. Fourteen Weeks

The thing about time was that it never stopped moving forward. The trees that just a few days ago had been beautiful and golden were starting to be stripped bare as storms brought strong winds and rain. The warmth from the sun was little more than a distant memory as cloud cover became the norm. The days were drawing in and the nights were darker than before.

Time waited for no one. It didn’t pause or stand still, or get faster or slower, it was a constant, always marching to the same beat no matter how much someone wanted it to stop. 

Niki had begged time to freeze. It had almost been a month since Schlatt had shut down the country mid-Championship and so much had changed since then. She felt like she couldn’t keep up. She was always two steps behind Schlatt and whatever he had planned, but it only drove her to work harder. She  _ wouldn’t  _ allow Schlatt to continue to have the upper hand forever.

It was why she dropped down into the sewers without a care, and followed those sewers to the tunnel system that would take her to the border with the Province of Galeetopia. She’d made this journey almost nightly for the last three weeks, _hoping_ that Minx would be stationed at the border again, and she was no longer phased by _whatever_ that smell was, or the horrible crusty trace materials that clung to the brick walls. She didn’t wince when her boots splashed into a puddle of _something_ and the liquid covered her legs. Now she was a woman on a mission - with the route from the bakery to the border entirely memorised and timed - and nothing was going to stand in her way.

She turned her lantern down when she got close to the border: Minx was the only person Niki could trust to see her sneaking around in the tunnels and  _ not  _ report her. So when her eyes rested on the woman in uniform with lilac hair in a ponytail she  _ beamed.  _ Her shoulders dropped with relief and the lantern fell from her hands - landing on the cobblestone beneath her with a clatter as she sprinted the last few hundred metres, running to close the distance between where she stood and her friend.

The commotion, of course, caught the attention of Minx and her subordinates, who all looked toward the direction Niki ran from quickly. Niki saw Minx waving the others to look away and  _ mind their own business,  _ if she could lip read correctly, before she exited the small reinforced room to greet the young woman running toward her.

“Minx!” Niki breathed. “It’s been weeks.”

“I know,  _ I’m sorry.”  _ She said. “Y’look well. I mean…”

“Don’t expect that for long. Come Monday, Schlatt controls all the food supply of Manburg.” Niki spoke as if that were  _ just another thing,  _ she’d become so accustomed to that bad piling up and up that Minx’s look of shock left her surprised. “He’s throwing a big party tomorrow. A celebration for his son coming back. I think it’s going to be the last time many of us eat well for a while.”

Minx was quiet for a moment, taking it all in, and Niki found that saying it aloud to someone that this wasn’t  _ normal  _ to, changed her perspective entirely. Not only was he going to be dictating the food that people ate, but he’d be in charge of the amount. He’d reasoned that it was because of the army’s recent expansion, but she wasn’t so sure. It just seemed like another way of controlling the population - if they relied on him for food they’d be less likely to rebel.

It wasn’t going to stop her.

“I’ve got tea again, or rum if you’d prefer, I’m not sure which suits better.” Minx replied, and Niki felt an arm wrapping around her waist and leading her back into the room that Minx had come from before. She melted into Minx’s hand in a way that she hadn’t expected to, but it became apparent to her then that it was  _ exactly  _ what she needed. Ant, Velvet, Bad and Skeppy were wonderful friends, they were rallying to her cause and helping her in everything she was trying to do, but Minx was different. Minx wasn’t playing an active part in their rebellion - not right now, anyway - and for that reason she seemed to slip into the role of  _ friend  _ much more easily than the others. They weren’t working to finish off their new batch of leaflets, or to investigate and see what Schlatt was doing: Minx was there to listen, to help if she could, and that touch provided Niki with so much comfort she didn’t even realise she needed.

Sitting in the little office space Niki took a mug of tea gratefully, and Minx sat her down in the most comfortable chair they had to offer before starting to speak.

“So I’ve got good news and bad news.” She began, and Niki nodded.  _ Of course  _ it wouldn’t just be good news.

“Bad news first, please.” She said, bringing the mug to her lips and taking a long, slow sip of milky tea. 

“Alright, bad news.  _ Technically,  _ there’s no evidence into any wrongdoing by Schlatt. Everyone  _ knows  _ he’s up to some kind of shit, but no one outside of Manburg has access to Manburg, and you’re the only person brave enough to come to the border and say what’s goin’ on. But without any hard evidence, no one’s gonna do anything. No sanctions, no invasions, nothing.”

Niki nodded slowly. As far as  _ bad news  _ went, hearing that every other country was watching on and refusing to help was pretty high up there. She’d suspected that she was the only one speaking out, but having it confirmed only made her heart sink deeper into her chest. 

“And the good news?” She asked warily, wanting at least  _ some  _ optimism to cling to. 

“I’ve spoken to my superiors. My Major is willing to turn a blind eye to whatever happens at this outpost until the end of the year.”

Niki’s eyes widened, the mug of tea almost slipping from between her fingers in shock, and she found a quiet, breathless laugh falling from her lips. Until the end of the year. That was three months away. Three months felt like  _ plenty  _ of time to overthrow a dictatorship, though something in the back of Niki’s mind reminded her that this was likely to be much more of an uphill battle than she’d first thought it would be. It wasn’t to say that she  _ couldn’t  _ do it, just that it was going to be much,  _ much  _ harder, and she needed to reign in her expectations before she got  _ too  _ ahead of herself.

But still, nearly fourteen weeks of unrestricted use of this border point between Manburg and P.O.Gtopia sounded almost too good to be true.

“Is there a limit?” She asked. “Can you bring us weapons? Can we get people out?”

“No limit, but his willful neglect only lasts until the new year. I can’t help you after then. At least, if I’m helping you, no one’s going to back  _ me  _ up.” She said. “Before you head back to Manburg I’m going to give you my schedule so you know when I’m working here. I’ll try and find out who’s stationed here when I’m not and I’ll talk to them to explain the situation, so if ever someone needs to escape Manburg for whatever reason you don’t have to wait until I’m here. I’m not sure how other people would feel about smuggling weapons into your country,  _ that  _ might be one to do when I’m here.”

Niki nodded. This was better than she’d expected. After the  _ bad news,  _ she’d anticipated that the good would be something miniscule, but this? This was concrete. This was  _ real.  _ This was assistance that would actually make a difference, even if it wasn’t entirely legal. 

As Minx continued to speak, Niki felt reassured. She could do this.  _ They  _ could do this. Schlatt’s rule would come to an end, and Manburg would be free from tyranny once more.

But now, the clock was ticking in two directions. Schlatt was tightening his grip on the Empire, and there was a finite amount of time until the support from P.O.Gtopia came to an end. She thanked Minx for the information she’d been given - and for the tea - and parted with one final hug. Picking up her lantern as she walked away from the border post, Niki started on the long walk back to the city. Adrenaline kept her going through the cold that clung to the tunnel system, and her mind worked overtime to figure out the next steps. 

_ Finally,  _ things were going to start to be put into motion.

# # #

Bad and Skeppy sat side by side on the sofa in Niki’s living room. 

Good news had come from Niki’s return in the morning, and they’d spent the entire day finishing up the leaflets that needed to be distributed in advance of the meeting next Friday, but now the flat was empty and they were alone. Niki, Ant and Velvet had all gone to the fancy party that Schlatt had thrown - inviting everyone in the country and using the stadium that had been renovated since the opening ceremony a month ago - leaving the two of them alone. It was something that they’d become accustomed to, and as Bad rested his head on Skeppy’s shoulder the younger moved his hand to grab the other’s arm. Skeppy’s thumb brushed over Bad’s skin comfortingly, and he forced himself to be the stronger of the two.

“You alright?” He asked quietly, and he felt Bad shaking his head against him. “We’ll be out of this soon.”

And for the first time, that felt like he was telling the truth. With Niki’s news that they had a way out if they needed it, the pair were able to be a little less on edge than before. But only a little. They still ran the risk of being caught simply by existing and it was the reason that they had to sit in a dark room, for fear that a passing soldier would investigate the reason for the light if they didn’t.

“I know.” Bad said gently, and as he turned his head to look at Skeppy the younger returned the favour, offering him a kind smile to reassure him. “It’s just been a lot. I was thinking.” 

“Thinking?” Skeppy asked. “That’s dangerous. I didn’t know you could.” 

Once upon a time, Bad would have come back with a clever quip and the two would have bantered away, but Skeppy’s lighthearted jokes weren’t quite enough to break through Bad’s shell on this occasion. So he stopped trying, and instead was just  _ there  _ for him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, and didn’t push when Bad didn’t immediately answer.

“We should be dead, Skeppy.” Bad eventually replied. “The soldier that saw us… His  _ orders  _ were to kill us, he  _ should  _ have killed us when he saw us.”

“We don’t know for certain that his orders were to kill us.” Skeppy reminded him. 

“They forced every other non-Manburg citizen out of the country, and then sent soldiers with guns to search people’s homes in case they were hiding a foreigner. Of course his orders were to kill us.”

Skeppy couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t try. He just kept moving his thumb back and forth against Bad’s arm and held him a little closer than before.

“A lot happened in the last month. We just came here for a holiday and now…” Bad trailed off. “Now we’re at the heart of a rebellion against a dictator. We’ve not been outside since this whole thing started, we’ve barely done anything but work to take him down, now that we have a moment to stop it all just feels too much. I feel like we can’t do this, like we can’t win.”

Skeppy nodded. For once, he was glad that the roles were reversed. When they’d been back home - when they were just a  _ normal  _ couple, when their lives were  _ normal -  _ Bad had always been the one to remain strong and provide comfort. Skeppy was easily upset, and he knew that when he became upset he made sure that  _ everyone  _ knew. He made no secret of his feelings. Bad, however, had always been the type to bottle it away. If he’d done that here, indefinitely, Skeppy feared for what that would do to him.

“We have each other.” He said quietly, leaning to press a kiss to Bad’s cheek and remind him that he was there. “It’s a lot. You  _ know  _ I’ve cried more than a few times. You always told me it’s okay to cry, or to feel overwhelmed, or to want to scream at the world and ask  _ why  _ this is happening to us, so it’s okay for you to do all those things too. If you bottle it up, it’s all gonna come out when we get home.”

“If--”

“When.” Skeppy said firmly. He didn’t leave any room for argument, though he could tell that Bad was still trying to look for one. To hear him so pessimistic, and to see him trying to find a way to further that hopelessness, hurt Skeppy. Bad was always sanguine, he always believed that things were going to get better, so seeing this side of him told Skeppy that he was doing an awful lot worse than he was letting on. For now, the best he could hope to do was distract him and remind him of that optimism he once had.

“What do you want to do when we’re home?” Skeppy asked. “We could get another dog, go see your parents, go see  _ my  _ parents… We could go hiking in the mountains of the Badlands, that would be fun! Right?” 

“I always wanted to go to the Badlands.” Bad agreed, humming quietly. “You can see the northern lights.”

“Exactly!” Skeppy said enthusiastically. “We’ll see the northern lights together. Maybe we can go for Christmas!”

“Do you think we’ll be out of here by then?” Bad asked. There was a beat of silence during which Skeppy’s face fell, and the older began to talk again to fill the time he spent thinking. “I know that Niki said the Province will only help us until the end of the year, but that doesn’t mean that this will be  _ over  _ by the end of the year, it just means that we’ll be on our own then.”

“It’ll be over by then.” Skeppy said. “I’m sure of it. I trust Niki. She’s given so much to help us so far, there’s no way it  _ won’t  _ be over. She cares too much for this to still be going on then.”

The two men shared eye contact for an extended moment, with Bad’s eyes full of scepticism and Skeppy’s full of hope. He believed they could do this, he trusted Niki and Ant and Velvet, and he trusted that everything they’d planned together so far would work out. If he didn’t believe in them, he knew he would be utterly ruined. That hope was the only thing that was going to get him through whatever the next few months brought - especially with the promise of less food than before now that Schlatt controlled the farms. They needed that hope more than ever.

“I trust you.” Bad said gently, his expression softening as he looked at Skeppy.

“Good.” Skeppy smiled, leaning forwards to press another kiss to him - this time locking their lips together for a short moment. “Now, have a cry, you need it. I’m here for you.”

“I don’t need to cry.” Bad rolled his eyes, and Skeppy tightened his hold on the man in return.

“Sure you don’t.” He said. “You process your trauma however you want. But if you do end up crying, I won’t mention it. Promise.”

And, when Bad  _ did  _ end up crying, Skeppy was true to his word and didn’t say a thing. He just held his partner a little tighter and promised silently that everything was going to be okay.

# # #

Niki felt horribly out of place. 

Big fancy parties were never her scene. She’d never really  _ gone out  _ much when she was younger, and she certainly hadn’t planned on starting to do so now, but invites had gone to every home in the country asking people to attend a  _ black tie celebration  _ that Schlatt was hosting in the city: a welcome home party for his son and a celebration of the Empire.

Niki had a horrible feeling that  _ not  _ going would only focus a spotlight on her and her actions all the more.

It was the reason that - less than twenty four hours after running through the sewers in old, dark clothes that smelled almost the same as the tunnels themselves did - she was standing in a dress. Not just any dress, the invitation had been  _ very specific  _ with the dress code expected of those attending such an important event. The dress she wore was tight on her torso, though the fabric wasn’t structured enough to be a corset, and the skirt that came from her waist was a-line and pleated. It was too long for her to wear normally, so she’d donned on a pair of (second hand) baby blue heels that matched the pastel colour of the dress perfectly. Tying it all together was a glittery silver belt that matched a pair of hoop earrings she’d found to wear. Her makeup was subtle, and her hair was tied back in a simple braid. 

She didn’t  _ like  _ being so dressed up - even though compared to those around her it was clear that she’d gone to the least effort possible - and her feet were already beginning to ache. Ant and Velvet were lucky, they just had to show up in suits.

Of course, those in charge were much more glamorous. Niki had seen Tommy following his father around, being introduced to everyone that Schlatt knew by name, and the two wore matching embroidered suits. They were both a deep emerald green with golden stitching and Niki found herself snarling. That man wanted to control how much the people of his country ate and dressed as lavishly as  _ that.  _ Compared to everything else he’d done, his  _ crimes against fashion  _ were low on the list of offences committed, but they angered Niki all the same. Off to the side - a little less outlandishly dressed (which Niki presumed had been mandated) were members of Schlatt’s cabinet. Their suits and dresses were still eye-catching, but Schlatt clearly wanted himself and his son to be the stars of the show.

“You know, you could try smiling.” Ant said, wandering over to Niki with a plate of food in one hand and Velvet in the other. “I know that this is all just a ruse for whatever stunt Schlatt wants to pull next, I  _ know  _ he just needs to get people on side and figured a party would be the way to do it, but you can have fun while being suspicious of the man.”

“Ant and I are gonna be in the army from Monday.” Velvet reminded her, his head rested on Ant’s shoulder. “We haven’t had fun like this in months. Will you dance with us before the night is over?”

Niki shifted on her feet, feeling her heels and ankles aching as she did, before nodding. 

“Not now.” She told them firmly, though the prospect of having  _ fun  _ was enough for her serious expression to twist into something a little more relaxed (and the corners of her lips even dared to curve upward into a smile). “But yes. Before this party ends, we’ll dance together. I promise.”

Satisfied with her answer, Ant popped a cocktail sausage into his mouth and Velvet continued to talk.

“Where do we go first?” He asked, his voice quiet so as to not attract any attention from soldiers (or to be overheard by the partygoers), and Niki glanced over her shoulder to come to a decision.

“I want to head down.” She said softly. “I think I can see where all the contestants went after the opening ceremony was over. Maybe if there’s a way backstage I can find where they were taken, see if there’s anything we can use to trace what happened next.”

“We could try and find a way to the presidential box?” Ant asked after swallowing his mouthful of food. “There might be something there to incriminate Schlatt, maybe he had plans that he kept up there.”

“It’s a longshot.” Velvet said. “But we can look.”

Niki almost said something about their reluctance to part ways, but she just let herself smile a little wider. There was nothing wrong with a little light existing in the dark.

“We’ll meet back by the buffet table.” She told them both, and they nodded promptly in response. With that, she allowed herself to be carried away by the crowds and began to look for a way into the stadium itself.

She waltzed around the edge of the arena as nonchalantly as she possibly could. The entrance that she’d spotted from across the floor (once a field that had since been repurposed and covered in what she assumed was a temporary wooden surface) was heavily guarded. Clearly, whoever had organised this party had taken measures to keep people from heading where they weren’t supposed to go, and that only intrigued Niki further. If there was nothing to hide, why would there be people with guns standing watchfully? 

Moving past the entrance, she began searching for a different way in. It wasn’t as if there weren’t other, very obvious, ways of getting into the heart of the stadium, it was simply that those ways were all under the same close eye of soldiers. 

It only filled her with more curiosity, and she found herself leaving the party entirely. There was no way she was going to get in unnoticed from this side - maybe she’d have better luck outside.

Once back out in the cold night air, leaving the music and laughter of the party behind, Niki stepped out of her shoes and let out a sigh of relief. The slightly wet cobblestone roads felt so much kinder on her feet, and with each step she took her toes felt like they were being massaged by the ground itself. The evening drizzle was cold as it landed on her bare shoulders, but she paid no mind to it. She didn’t care that her hair was starting to frizz a little from the humidity either, or that the hem of her dress had dragged through a few puddles already as she started to walk the perimeter of the stadium.

_ Somewhere,  _ there’d be a way in. There had to be a back door, those that worked in the place wouldn’t go in through the main entrance.

So when she saw an open door - a man several steps away with his back turned and a cigarette lit - she pounced at the opportunity. Without shoes on she made little noise on the approach, and she managed to slip inside without being noticed. 

The inside of the stadium was different from both the outside world, the party, and any other building she’d ever seen. Everything was a bright white - the ceiling, the floors, the walls - and covered in a mess of cables and tubes. The larger pipes she assumed were ventilation shafts, and made a note that there was a shaft next to the entrance: it could be used as an escape path if things went downhill quickly. The other cables seemed to be mostly electrical, with different colours of plastic casing the only real identifying feature. Some tapered off into rooms, others continued further down the corridor, and Niki’s eyes took them all in. There was a complicated, sophisticated system of  _ something  _ going on around here - she doubted that all these cables were needed just to have a party a few meters above her head - and she was going to find out exactly what it was.

Leaving her shoes by the door, Niki padded barefoot over white tiles that were so much more slippery than they ought to be (though wet feet probably weren’t doing her  _ any  _ favours). She moved slowly and listened intently, trying to ignore the sounds of music coming from above and listen instead for footsteps. There weren’t many places that she’d be able to hide if someone saw her, so she needed to have as much warning as possible.

Wandering the corridors was like a labyrinth, and Niki was fairly certain she was lost in a matter of minutes. She’d been following the red wire at first, but when that had dipped inside a seemingly empty room she’d elected to follow the many blue ones that had been grouped together and snaked around corners in a much more dense block. At least eight blue cables were tied tightly together, and Niki decided that wherever they led would be  _ something  _ of interest. As she turned another corridor and the slippery tiled flooring was swapped for a cold, concrete surface, Niki furrowed her brows. Her feet were far less slippery on this surface which came in particularly useful as more and more cables seemed to join the ones she was following along the ground. She had to step carefully avoid them - not wanting to risk electrocuting herself if her feet were still damp - and that only became more difficult to do the further she followed the trail. This really was leading her to the heart of something, and the more corners she had to turn the more she realised it must have been buried away for a reason.

Eventually, the sound of the party was drowned out not just by distance, but by the sounds of fans whirring away. The floor was still cold but the air temperature had gradually been rising and combining that with the sheer number of wires that she was following, Niki assumed that  _ somewhere  _ around here was going to be an awful lot of electronic equipment.

The fans she passed were old - they were redstone systems and far clunkier than the more modern sculk ones - and that gave her two different ideas.

One, whatever she was about to see was so intensely powerful that there was no choice but to use not only sculk coolers, but redstone powered ones too. Two, whatever was going on had been rushed and they’d had to use whatever they could find first to keep the systems cool.

It turned out, as she reached a door at the end of the corridor, that the first of her ideas was correct.

There was a hole in the wall to the room she found, and almost every cable had been squeezed through the tiny gap. A few still ran around the corner, but there was too much pointing to this room for Niki to just walk past it. 

Looking both ways, making sure there was no one approaching, Niki lowered herself to the ground and pressed her face against the cinder block wall, closing one eye and moving her face as close to the hole as she physically could to give her the best view possible of the room. As it turned out, there was so much happening  _ in  _ the room that there was no way she could take it in through such a small hole, but she still tried. 

From her current angle she could see the bottom of a row of stasis chambers, and the feet of at least two people walking around them. She’d heard plenty about the Championships - everyone had - and so seeing the stasis chambers was of no surprise. She recognised them from the interviews she’d seen Noxite give in years gone by, explaining how the event worked and how people were able to be uploaded safely to the servers to compete. What  _ was  _ a surprise to her, though, came when she got to her feet and went to peer through the door. 

There were still people  _ in  _ the stasis chambers, and from this angle she could tell that there was more than just one row. 

This was the heart of the operation for the games. This was where everyone had been uploaded to and monitored while the games were ongoing. So how come, almost a month after the games had come to an abrupt halt, people were still there? Hadn’t Schlatt  _ said  _ that everyone had been downloaded and was recovering in hospital?

If that wasn’t the case -  _ why had he lied?  _ Why were these people  _ still  _ in stasis? What was he doing that required them to remain suspended in animation, frozen in time, and preserved? Did he want them for something, was he brainwashing them? Maybe he was experimenting on them? 

And then came the next awful realisation. Schlatt wasn’t the only person that was in charge,  _ Noxite  _ was the one that controlled the Noxcrew and the scientists that worked on the programme. If he’d been involved not just recently - he  _ was  _ in Schlatt’s cabinet after all - but from the start? And if Scott was  _ also  _ part of Schlatt’s cabinet and  _ also  _ worked with Noxite and the Noxcrew on the games, then how long had this been going on for? How much planning had been done? How much  _ worse  _ were things still going to get?

Whatever was happening, Niki realised that she’d drastically underestimated Schlatt’s power. Things were clearly so much more complicated than she thought they were.

But she wasn’t going to get any more answers by standing outside the room. She needed to get in. Seeing what was happening up close would surely tell her more than she could ever deduce from watching through the window. She wasn’t sure  _ how  _ she’d explain her presence to the scientists in question, but they looked considerably less armed than the military. Clearly no one had expected people to make their way this deep into the stadium with all the guards outside.

As she lowered her hand to the door handle, eyes scanning the faces of those she could see in the stasis chambers, she felt something press down on her shoulder.

With a gasp, she jumped, spinning on the spot and causing her skirt to puff out as she turned to face whoever had come up behind her.

“Lost?” The man asked, and Niki looked at him like a deer caught in headlights. The man was blond, with slightly scruffy facial hair and a number of badges pinned to his military uniform. If she hadn’t figured it out from that, then the number of guns and the cocky look in his eyes that simply said  _ ‘got you’  _ were enough to tell her that this man was important.

“Y-yes.” She stammered, nodding quickly. “I went to the bathroom.” It was the first lie that came to her, and even  _ she  _ knew that it sounded ridiculous. “I got lost in the corridors…”

“Of course.” The man said, and Niki didn’t for a moment consider that he believed her. The look in his eye told her that. “I’ll escort you back to the party. What was your name?”

Niki had a feeling that there would be no point in lying. He knew who she was, he just wanted to see if she’d tell him the truth or not. And if he knew who she was and she lied, then it would only solidify in his mind that she was snooping around rather than  _ getting lost.  _ At least she still had her dress on, she still looked  _ somewhat  _ the part of a partygoer even if her shoes were left by the door.

“Niki.” She said. He didn’t ask for her full name, after all. 

With a hum of consideration, the man offered his hand, and he began to lead Niki back toward the surface. She didn’t realise how far  _ down  _ she’d gone, though she supposed most of the descent had been made on the street outside.

“Niki.” He repeated. “Funny.” He said, though neither of them were laughing. Niki didn’t ask why he thought the name was funny, and he didn’t tell her any further. Instead they just walked silently through the corridors, up two flights of stairs and down another corridor illuminated with End Rods. Without knowing the layout of the stadium as well as this man obviously did, Niki had no idea if she was truly being taken back to the party. The music was getting louder, sure, but that could mean anything. He could be leading her to a room she’d be locked away in, or a cell, or  _ anything.  _ If he knew that she’d been up to no good then there was no end of awful things her mind could anticipate him doing to her.  _ Anyone  _ under Schlatt’s thumb seemed to be like that.

Except he did exactly as he said he would. Niki could see the stadium again - the music was deafeningly loud, the lights were colourful and bright, and people were jubilant. The pair continued up the corridor until they reached the very edge of the stadium, the man extending an arm inches from the threshold and stopping Niki dead in her tracks. She swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment and taking in a breath before she turned her head to look at him - something he was already doing to her.

“I would have gone with Cinderella.” He told her flatly, holding out her high heeled shoes she’d left by the door on her way in.

He  _ definitely  _ knew what she’d done.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, slipping her feet painfully back into the shoes before she was permitted to go on her way. 

Punz watched her go, shaking his head and chuckling to himself, before he turned to head into the crowd of people. Schlatt was easy to spot, naturally, and he made the beeline for the Emperor. Wherever Niki had gone now, he didn’t particularly care. He’d done his job for the night, they could deal with her again in the morning. 

When he stood at Schlatt’s side, the General bumped shoulders with the man to get his attention. It took less than a beat for the Emperor to start speaking, his hands moving onto the shoulders of his son. Punz wondered just  _ how much  _ he’d drank that night, he was always more touchy when drunk.

“Tommy, you stay and schmooze, I’ll be back in a moment kiddo.” 

Tommy nodded in response, but neither Schlatt nor Punz paid any attention to him as the two stepped quietly to the side. The crowds parted easily, giving them the space they needed for their quiet conversation, and Schlatt asked his question with nothing more than a raise of his eyebrows.

“You were right.” Punz said simply. “Little girls can’t resist an open door.”

# # #

Ant and Velvet hadn’t been spotted. When they’d heard what had happened to Niki, the three had left the stadium without a dance and promptly returned to their own homes. To ensure that their plans still worked, and that the military didn’t realise that they were all working together, Ant and Velvet weren’t to risk visiting Niki for the rest of the weekend. She wanted to lay low, and she wanted them to be able to join the military without any issue. If they recognised them as someone that had spoken to her, people might start putting things together and asking questions.

So the next time they saw each other was oh-eight-hundred hours on Monday morning, on the military base, in military uniform, joining the army. They stood outside, side by side and silent, too afraid to say anything even if the atmosphere was somewhat  _ relaxed.  _ Of the thousands of people that had attended the recruitment drive a week ago, everyone seemed to have turned up, but  _ they  _ were still anxious. Maybe the difference came from the fact that everyone else joined because they believed in the army, and they  _ supported  _ the Empire: Ant and Velvet were only standing outside underneath grey skies on a Monday morning because they were intent on taking the Empire down. 

It wasn’t long before the crowd was silenced by a man - General Punz - welcoming them all. They were separated off into groups of 30 and taken away from to begin their first week of training.

By some mercy, Ant and Velvet were in the same platoon. They were taken into barracks and assigned beds (Ant had been given the bunk above Velvet, which both men forced themselves not to laugh at), and were given another introduction. This time, rather than being welcomed to the army, their Lieutenant explained how the first week of training would go.

Today would be a series of formalities. Paperwork had to be signed, hair had to be shaved, and they would all have a general check up by a doctor before it was early to bed. On Friday they had to pass a physical fitness test, so from oh-five-hundred hours tomorrow morning they would be dedicating themselves to training to pass that test. Those that passed would continue their teaching, and those that failed would be given two opportunities every week to pass the test until they did, at which point they would continue their course too.

It would take 10 weeks to finish their training. If they passed their fitness tests that Friday, it meant they would be fully fledged soldiers of the Manburg Military by the first weekend of December.

Ant and Velvet both knew that, if everything went to plan, they would still have nearly four weeks to make their move before the support from P.O.Gtopia ran out. 

Plenty of time, right?

They weren’t given any time to think about things. The two - along with the rest of their platoon - were marched out of the barracks to receive their medical exams. It was simple enough, and nothing seemed overly suspicious. They had blood taken, were given eye exams, had their heartbeat listened to and answered a few basic questions about their health, allergies, and substance use. It didn’t feel like it was something that would take a particularly long amount of time, but it was midday before the group were together again for their first team building experience. 

Paired up with strangers, they were asked to shave each other’s heads one by one in front of the others. Ant tried not to think about how performative the action was, and how much it felt like a cult for exactly that reason. After each person was shaved, people clapped. Ant managed to make eye contact with Velvet while he was having his head shaved - and vice versa - and the silence conversation they had seemed to have them agreeing that it was  _ weird.  _

Team building continued for a while after they’d all been given their haircuts, everyone having a chance to learn each other’s names and their strengths (as opposed to any  _ personal  _ details being shared) before dinner in the mess. Ant and Velvet knew what the reason they were there for was: to spread their anti-Schlatt propaganda within the army. It meant that they had to befriend their peers and win their trust.

It didn’t mean they enjoyed worming their way into a strange kind of friendship with the men radiating toxic-masculinity around them. These certainly weren’t going to be the people that they’d be convincing to break away from their support for Schlatt, but a stepping stone to access those that  _ would  _ be willing to waver.

They were back in their barracks by nineteen-hundred-hours, and lights were out an hour later. 

Sleep was difficult for both Ant and Velvet to find that night, and in the morning this was something they’d come to regret.

As instructed the day before they’d risen at oh-five-hundred hours, they showered and ate a simple breakfast of porridge with their platoon, and by oh-five-thirty they were outside in the rain, in the dark, and shivering in the cold. Their uniforms did little to keep any kind of warmth in and so the chill that the breeze brought in with it sunk into their bones: they all felt substantially less glamorous than they had done several days prior. 

That morning was the first real test of their physical fitness. An obstacle course. From what they’d been told (as it was too dark to even  _ see  _ what was ahead of them) they would be expected to run a mile along a mud path before even  _ reaching  _ the first obstacle. The path was marked clearly and would eventually lead them back to the base, though the ten miles included a plethora of challenges that they weren’t to be warned about in advance. They were expected to make it back in two hours, and any not back in three would immediately find themselves in the more intensive physical fitness programme.

When the group set off, the different levels of fitness became very apparent. A group of six ran off ahead, and three trailed behind, with the other twenty-one men running in more or less one block. Ant and Velvet were slightly to the front of that block, which filled them with the confidence they needed to get through whatever was going to be thrown at them so early in the morning.

It turned out, when they reached the first obstacle, that their wake up call had only just begun.

A long, several hundred meter stretch of mud that they were expected to crawl through, with barbed wire above that would limit how far off the ground they could lift themselves.

“Well…” Velvet muttered, Ant and several others standing beside him turning to look at him as they breathed in. “If you can’t go over it, and you can’t go under it, and can’t go around it…”

Ant rolled his eyes, letting out a quiet laugh.

“I guess we go through it.”

And the group did exactly that. They dropped to the ground, lowering their heads and bodies as close as they could to the mud beneath them. Everyone had to crawl, pulling themselves forward with their elbows and knees splayed, and by the time they reached the other side they were coated in a generous layer of mud and a few scratches to the backs of their clothes where they’d gotten hooked on the wire above them. Rather than wait around for the slower crawlers to finish, everyone continued as soon as they emerged, and they followed the path as it curved round to the east. They were running directly into the sun as it rose, but also down a slight slope, so the squinting was a small price to pay for their bodies numbed from the cold. 

The next obstacle they came to was a climbing wall. It was sheer, and rose at least ten meters above them with ropes and footholds to guide them to the top. Ant and Velvet shared a look, their throats raw from the cold air they’d been breathing in, and wordlessly moved forward to take a rope into each of their hands.

Climbing wasn’t difficult alone, but climbing in these conditions  _ was.  _ Both men had slippery hands covered in mud, and both men were shivering and shaking from the cold. Wrapping their hands around the thick twine made their fingers ache and their palms quickly turned red from friction burns. The only sounds filling the air around them were the grunts of effort they let out, and the footsteps of the group approaching from behind. There wasn’t enough rope for everyone to climb at once, which meant that they had to hurry along if they didn’t want to hold their platoon members back. 

If this was supposed to be another thinly veiled team building activity, both Ant and Velvet quickly decided it wasn’t one they enjoyed.

Velvet got to the top first, dropping his rope back down for another man to take, and he averted his attention to Ant. The man was struggling, that much was obvious, but he was so close to the top. The way down was easier - a steep sloped ramp into a pool of (what Velvet could only assume was) ice cold water. It wouldn’t be a pleasant landing, but it wouldn’t hurt either.

“Come on!” He called, crouching down on top of the wall and lowering himself a little. Velvet outstretched a hand toward Ant, not really giving a damn if this counted as cheating or not. “Nearly there, I’ve got you.”

His encouragement made Ant look up, offering a tired smile to Velvet, before he refocused his attention on his climb and redoubled his efforts. In a matter of seconds, he was close enough to Velvet for the two to be able to grab hold of each other, and Velvet helped to pull Ant to the top of the wall. It wobbled just a little - as you’d expect anything built like this to - and Velvet nodded to the slope beside them.

“Shall we?” He asked, a smile teasing it’s way onto his face. They hadn’t let go of each other just yet, not wanting to after not having an opportunity to hold each other yesterday like they normally did. 

“We shall.” Ant agreed, and the two all but threw themselves down the ramp. Sliding down as the sun rose over the frost covered landscape, they whooped and laughed, and when they landed in the water at the bottom (already dirty, from those that had gone before) their laughter continued. It was utterly freezing, as they clambered out they were shivering even more obviously, but they were able to make the best out of a bad situation and pushed on. Now that the sun was visible there was a promise of warmth on the way.

The next few obstacles were relatively easy. A tyre crawl, a number of steep, muddy trenches to run up and down, monkey bars with long drops below and slopes they had to pull each other up. By the time the end was in sight there was one last obstacle, and the group had condensed into one block again. Those that had run on ahead at first had been caught up here - there was no way they were going to get through if it wasn’t together, as a unit - and as more people began to arrive they started to figure out the puzzle together. 

They needed to get to the other side of long, wooden logs, but the way that this obstacle had been constructed had turned them into seesaws. Putting weight on one side lowered it, and weight on the other would raise the side they were currently standing on. It didn’t help that they were all covered in mud again (the slopes they’d previously had to clamber over had been covered in mud) and at this point it was impossible to truly differentiate who everyone was. 

Velvet found himself taking charge. It was a role he’d slipped into easily once he’d been managed to scramble, splinter-free, over the first seesaw. Rather than immediately jump down to continue to the next section he kept the high ground, worked out a path, and called to the people around him which way was best to go. From his vantage point, he could also lend a hand to those that struggled with climbing, and he counted each man that passed him. They were being timed, and it looked like there was still a half mile to run until they reached the end of the loop, but he remained where he was until all twenty-nine had gone on ahead. Some had already finished - Velvet was certain that Ant was one of them - and he smiled to himself. Jumping down into the mud and pulling himself over the second and third logs, helping the slowest do the same, he found himself instilled with a sense of pride. 

Sure, he didn’t agree with Manburg, he didn’t stand for the same things their army stood for, but he’d been able to help and lead a group of people. If he took the context of the military out of it, being able to help to such an extent felt rewarding. Those people succeeded because of him, even if that meant that he was the last one to cross the finish line. 

“Good work, recruits.” The Lieutenant said. “Go shower up. You’ve got shots before lunch, then more work this afternoon.” The group all nodded in response, and as they started to peel away the Lieutenant shouted to get their attention once more.

“Velvet.”

He came to a stop and turned around, straightening his back and bringing his arms tight against his side.

“Yes Sir?” He replied, sensing that Ant had slowed down to wait for him rather than continuing on with the group alone.

“I’d like to speak to you privately. Come with me.”

Looking over his shoulder, Velvet confirmed that Ant had done as he assumed. He tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, gesturing for Ant to continue and promising to catch up with him later (all in one silent motion) before redirecting his attention to the Lieutenant. 

“Of course Sir.” He said, beginning to follow the man as he started to walk away from the rest of the group. Whatever the Lieutenant had to say to him, Velvet had a horrible feeling that it was going to get in the way of the plan. Still, they had nearly fourteen weeks to go. Whatever he said could be accounted for, and whatever happened as a result of it could be twisted to work in their favour.

  
He wasn’t about to let the plan be derailed after  _ one day.  _ They’d make this work for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i accidentally make this the badboyhalo number? yes. i realised that while writing this authors note & backspaced what i already had written out xD
> 
> hope you enjoyed this more "plot" chapter, don't worry, horrible things will be happening to our characters again soon :) if you haven't already, consider leaving a kudos & let me know what you thought below!


	18. A Crumb of Revolution

Niki stepped outside on a warm Thursday morning - the weather surprisingly good for October - and locked the door to the bakery behind her. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, a rarity for this time of year, and she felt the sun’s warm rays on her back. Her hands lingered against the wood door and metal handle for a moment, fingers brushing gently over the sanded surface as she took in a deep breath and prepared herself for the day. It was a routine she’d started doing every morning, and she found that it helped with the anxiety that bubbled away inside her. It had always been there, but it was something that had gotten worse since the man from the military had spotted her sneaking around the stadium last weekend. 

It wasn’t helped by the fact that everyone in the city was being turned against her.

She reached for the basket of freshly baked, carefully wrapped loaves and counted them silently. Since Schlatt had begun controlling the food supplies, Niki had to change how her business was run. No longer did she have access to a free market where she could buy the ingredients she needed directly from farmers to make her bread, instead she had to speak with the Government for everything. She couldn’t just open up her cafe on a whim and hope that people would come by, she required proof to purchase the excess food that she wasn’t allotted, and the Government kept a record of those ordering the bread. The only way to cope with the new way of doing things was to operate a delivery system, where her customers could order products in advance and she took them to their door. She didn’t know what the Government was going to do with the information she gave them, but if she wanted to start her revolution without even more attention being drawn to her then she had to comply with at least  _ some  _ of their demands.

Niki  _ missed  _ how busy the cafe used to be. She missed the warmth of the fire in the mornings, crackling away before anyone entered. She missed taking orders, seeing the people that came in regularly and knowing what they would be drinking before they’d even approached her. She missed talking to people - hearing about their days, their plans, even just  _ the weather.  _

But, of course, Niki had made this change work for her, too. 

Delivering goods meant she was going straight to the doors of almost everyone in the city, and her eyes glanced over the small number of leaflets tucked into the side of the basket. From the outside they just looked like guides to order baked goods from her - they had her bakery on the front, her phone number, even her social media page - and any onlookers as she walked would logically think of it as such. Instead, those leaflets were a  _ very  _ important part of taking down Schlatt. 

They were invitations. For those that Niki delivered bread to that weren’t emphatic Schlatt supporters, that weren’t people that already claimed they would lay their lives down for the Empire, she would hand them a leaflet with their bread. She’d give them a wink that only they could see as she informed them that it had her full range of services inside and if there was anything on the menu they wanted, all they had to do was order.

She’d seen plenty of curious eyes turning the leaflet over, opening up the first page and widening as they started to digest the information provided to them. She’d leave them with a smile, knowing that she still had  _ some  _ supporters in the city.

It was a small number though. A form of Internet had returned - something that Niki suspected was due to Schlatt’s need for  _ something  _ to pacify a population who he’d just taken control of the food supply from - and Niki had seen first hand,  _ immediately,  _ that there was a large amount of Government control. Everything that was posted looked to have been screened by someone: likely a poor civil servant who had no say in what their job was becoming. The videos that had been taken of her carving  _ L’Mantree  _ a week before had begun to circulate almost as soon as people had access to social media again, and any posts that supported her - or even just took a neutral stance - seemed to be suppressed. It hadn’t helped her anxiety, and the overwhelming slander being spread about her wasn’t helping the cause more widely.

Those that did see eye-to-eye with her, though, seemed more driven. They gave firm nods when they saw the time of the meeting at the bottom of the leaflet, silently promising to be there. 

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to instill the hope that Niki needed to keep pushing forward.

The woman standing before her now, separated by the threshold to her home, was one such person.

“I’ll be there.” She whispered with a smile. “Thank you, Niki.” 

The door closed, and Niki turned back to the street and began to walk slowly down the road to her next address. Moments like that were what got her through the day. Moments where she saw the truth coming together before someone’s very eyes, where things clicked into place, and whatever gut feeling they’d had that something was wrong was affirmed.

It didn’t last long. She only made it a few steps over cobblestone before she heard something she was  _ far  _ more used to at this point.

“Oi, it’s her!” A man yelled, before incoherent, slurred booing and jeering came from him and his friends. If it wasn’t so early on a Thursday morning, Niki would have assumed they were drunk. Though taking one look at them, she wasn’t entirely convinced that the group  _ weren’t.  _

“Fuckin’ scumbag!” One shouted.

“I heard she’s a spy.” Another said loudly to his friends. “Go back to Pogtopia you fuckin’  _ piglin.”  _

There was laughter coming from the group of three, and Niki’s grip on her basket tightened. She wouldn’t let them get to her, no matter how much they swore or whatever they called her. Even  _ if  _ they were chanting that she was a piglin as she walked, she just kept her head down low and continued with her day. She needed to be able to cope with far worse than a few names being thrown at her if she wanted to be able to overthrow a dictatorship. 

They clearly didn’t enjoy the fact that she was walking away from them. Their cries of piglin quietened and instead the group introduced more insults to their barrage: ghast; wither; blaze -  _ she got it.  _ They saw her as a monster from the very depths of hell and  _ she got it.  _

“You ain’t good for  _ anything,  _ you fucking  _ Poglin.”  _

She stopped in her tracks at that. Niki was fine with taking the insults, if they came over and hit her it wouldn’t have stopped her from doing what she had planned, but that? She drew the line at the slur. By removing any foreign nationals from the country Schlatt had created a perfect environment for those that were racist to show their true colours, but just because there was no one  _ from  _ Pogtopia around didn’t mean that Niki was just going to let it slide.

“You watch your mouth!” She turned on the spot, making eye contact with the three red-faced men and trying to keep herself somewhat calm. “You don’t get to use that word.”

“It’s the truth tho, innit?” The man on the right asked. He wasn’t the one that had shouted it - it hadn’t been his voice - but he clearly sympathised with his friend. “You ain’t from here.”

“It doesn’t matter  _ where  _ I’m from, you can’t use words like that.” She replied, hating the smirk that came across all three men’s faces. It was only a moment before they burst out into laughter, and she realised that there was going to be no winning this argument.

“You’d think a spy would have tougher skin than that.” One said through his giggling and she turned around again. Better not to engage. Better to focus on the task at hand and attack the core problem - Schlatt - before the cruelty that he brought with his rule and the venom that had been allowed to rise to the surface spread any further. 

She walked on with her next delivery, intent on handing out as many leaflets as Skeppy and Bad could produce before the end of the day. Tomorrow was their first meeting, tomorrow would make every insult worth it. Tomorrow she would see the quiet people that stood by her, that saw that something was wrong, and wanted to help make a difference. And no amount of foul language could change that.

But still, the sinking feeling in her stomach persisted and became so much worse throughout the day. Under the clear blue skies, carried by a gentle, cool breeze, Niki endured an onslaught on insults. There came a time where not letting it get to her seemed like an impossible task. 

The abuse only stopped when a military training exercise made its way through the undulating streets of the city, and Niki found herself enjoying the moment of relief she was given. She - like the others on the street - watched as several dozen soldiers in training ran in time down the cobbled paths, their pace not changing whether they were running up or down a slope. Her eyes scanned the crowd for the men she knew and loved, and sure enough Ant and Velvet were there, running side by side. If the army wasn’t supporting a Government that was cruel she would almost have been proud of them. They looked smart in their uniforms - the black gear with orange highlights suiting them - and they were keeping perfect time with the others in their platoon.

Seeing them gave her a boost: she wasn’t alone; they would be at the meeting tomorrow night. It was enough to get her through the rest of her deliveries and kept her going until she got back to the bakery. When she returned, she was greeted by Bad and Skeppy, and the three of them spent the afternoon making dough. The fact that she ran a bakery was perhaps the only thing keeping the three of them alive - splitting one person’s food between three had left them all hungry and tired - and they had quickly found a way to make slightly lower quality bread so they could stretch each day’s dough out into an extra loaf. It wasn’t the most nutritious food they could be eating, but it was the food that was on offer to them and their hungry stomachs took it without question.

Once the dough was left to rise overnight the three returned upstairs for a quiet dinner and took a look at social media to see what was being spread to the general population.

That night, they had more work to do. They had a meeting to plan for - the first meeting of the Revolutionaries - and they needed it to go perfectly. Those that came needed to be engaged, they needed to feel listened to, and they needed to feel confident enough to question the things they saw. They needed to be able to subtly spread their discomfort with Schlatt’s regime. 

It was a monumental task, but one that the three felt they could accomplish together.

# # #

Tommy sat uncomfortably opposite his father. Breakfasts were never particularly fun, though outside of the party that had taken place a week prior Tommy wasn’t entirely sure he’d had any amount of fun. Power was nothing like he’d expected, though so far he’d managed to shrug responsibility away somewhat. Sure, he read papers for meetings, he attended the meetings, he listened to  _ parts  _ of the meetings, but that was where it ended. He’d been pulled into this world that he didn’t really understand without any warning, and the promises he’d been given had been vague at best. He hadn’t noticed at the time - the promise of  _ survival  _ had been all he’d clung to - but now, a month after the Championships had ended, it was starting to sink in. The promises were worthless. If Tommy had known just  _ what  _ the power he was being offered entailed, he might have reconsidered. Especially knowing that the thing he wanted protection from might not have caused him any lasting damage.

He’d bitten off so much more than he could chew and he didn’t know how he could turn back from that. 

“You’ve barely touched your breakfast, Tommy.” Schlatt said, his words slurred. Tommy was used to this by now, but even  _ he  _ considered it early for the man to already be acting like this. He supposed alcoholism didn’t have a schedule.

“I guess I’m not really hungry today.”

He felt awful just saying those words aloud. Tommy knew what Schlatt had done - he’d been to all the meetings where the Cabinet had discussed and signed off on the motions - and he knew that he was one of the very few that had access to as much food as he wanted. It wasn’t as if they were starving the population, but there were still people out there that could be going hungrier than usual. And here he was pushing around scrambled eggs with a fucking  _ golden fork.  _

The irony wasn’t lost on him, and he felt sick.

“Big day ahead of you, kid.” Schlatt said, his voice a little less shaky this time and a little more insistent. “You should eat.”

“Today’s no different than yesterday. I don’t see how it’s a  _ big day.”  _

“Every day’s a big day!” Schlatt smiled brightly, a look that Tommy didn’t think suited him. “I want you to go with Scott today.”

Tommy blinked. Scott - his  _ friend  _ \- spending the day with him would be nice… But then he thought back to everything that had been discussed at meetings, everything Scott had said he’d done… Tommy wasn’t sure he could stomach that, regardless of the fact that the man  _ seemed  _ to have his best interests at heart.

“Maybe I’m sick.” Tommy shrugged, looking back down to his plate and scratching the soft metal prongs of the fork against the delicate porcelain plates. It made an awful sound, his eye twitching, and Schlatt laughed. It was boisterous, full, and obnoxious. 

“You’re not sick, Tommy. You’re my kid, my kid doesn’t get  _ sick.  _ My kid  _ works.  _ You accepted this, Tommy, you agreed to this arrangement.”

“You said I wouldn’t have to do anything.” Tommy mumbled, a hand coming to his chin as his elbow rested on the table. 

“I offered you an Empire, surely you realised that running an Empire took  _ work?  _ I don’t think it’s my fault if whatever they taught you in that shit-ass country you came from was  _ that  _ poor.”

Tommy didn’t reply. This might have been where he was born, Schlatt might have been his family by blood, but that  _ shit-ass country  _ was his home. That was where his friends were, where the people that had raised him were. 

He wondered, briefly, if they knew. He wondered if they missed him. Maybe they were worried about him. 

Instead of looking up when he heard the scraping of chair legs against the floor, Tommy just focused himself more on his eggs. Even when slow, echoing footsteps began to approach he didn’t look up. It was only when his father grabbed his jaw in one hand and turned his head forcefully that he laid eyes on Schlatt - and still he didn’t look the older man directly in the eye.

“Look, Theseus.” Schlatt said, using Tommy’s birth name as his voice became dark and quiet. The way that he flip-flopped between emotions  _ terrified  _ Tommy. “It’s been a difficult month, I get it. You saw all your friends die, you agreed to stand at my side, you woke up in hospital and you’ve been getting used to the changes you’ve experienced, but it’s time to start pulling some  _ fucking  _ weight around here.”

He swallowed, daring to glance at Schlatt’s face. His expression was horrifying: his eyes were bloodshot and wild, his nostrils flared and his lip twitched. This wasn’t the man that had lured Tommy in with gentle promises, nor was it the man that had spoken to him in hospital or spoken about him on stage. This was Schlatt, the Emperor, the Dictator, trying the same heavy handed, tight fisted approach he used on governing his Empire to parent. 

“I just… Not today. I don’t  _ feel well.”  _ Tommy pleaded. “Monday. On Monday I can do whatever you want me to do, I’ll be the heir you want I just--”

The pressure on Tommy’s jaw vanished for a split second, before a sharp stinging pain filled his cheek and he heard the sound of skin hitting skin. He blinked in confusion and pain, barely even registering the back of Schlatt’s hand lingering beside him until several seconds had passed. 

“You’re my son, Theseus, my heir. You do what I  _ fucking  _ tell you to do. If I tell you that I want you to start doing your share of the shit around here, you do it. If I tell you to spend the day with Secretary Scott, you  _ do it.  _ If I tell you to lick dog shit from the bottom of my shoes, you  _ fucking  _ do it. Do you understand me?!” He yelled, his voice echoing in the near empty dining room the two sat in.

Tommy couldn’t help the way his eyes filled with tears and his bottom lip began to tremble. He was a kid, after all, but Schlatt was having none of it.

“I said do you  _ fucking understand me?  _ Or do I have to teach you a goddamn lesson?”

“I-I understand.” He whispered, his voice shaking as he cast his gaze back to the ground and tried to shrink away from the man that hovered over him.

“Good.” Schlatt said. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He sighed, letting his shoulders fall and offering Tommy an almost apologetic smile. “Sorry kid, I don’t  _ like  _ having to raise my voice. Thank you.” And just like that, his tone was soft and gentle again. Tommy honestly felt worse than before when he realised that.

Slipping down in his chair a little, Tommy watched as Schlatt walked away from him. The table was long - it was the kind of table that Tommy had only ever seen in documentaries in school from castles of Kings and Queens hundreds of years ago. The entire building they lived in was like that, though - like Schlatt thought if he  _ called _ himself an Emperor, and  _ acted  _ like an Emperor, he would  _ be  _ one. But no amount of long tables, glowstone chandeliers and paintings framed in gold would make him into the kind of person he wanted to be. 

“Now, finish your breakfast Tommy.” Schlatt said, and Tommy nodded quickly, his fork bringing piles of scrambled eggs to his lips. “You’ve got a lot of work to do with Scott today.”

# # #

The day had dragged. Friday was far,  _ far  _ too long, and no amount of baking and deliveries could make the hours tick by any faster. Eight thirty. Eight thirty and Niki’s cafe would once more be full of people - though this time a very different kind of crowd. Things had slowly been going back to normal in Manburg and people were out and about again, doing things they wanted to do, visiting others, eating in Government approved restaurants after trading in their rations for whatever meal they were replacing with eating out, and it meant that no one would be suspicious of people heading to see Niki late on a Friday evening.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Niki was certain she could  _ breathe  _ and there would now be people suspicious of what hidden meaning there was behind the action, but having people to visit wouldn’t be too strange of an occurrence to the average onlooker.

She was already pacing the floor of the cafe at six pm, her hands behind her back and fingers fiddling nervously with the hem of her jumper. Her mind was filled with so many awful thoughts: what if no one came; what if someone ratted her out to the police or the military and she was arrested; what if no one  _ cared?  _

What if she really  _ was  _ alone in her endeavours?

In her mind, Niki had already made up a plan for that result. She would sneak Bad and Skeppy out of the country as soon as she could, taking them to Minx’s border point under the cover of night, and ensure they were safe. She would find a way to take down Schlatt alone and she would do her damndest to see it through - but it would mean that if something  _ did  _ happen then the only person at risk would be her. Niki loved the support her friends were giving her, but if they were only supporting her because they were her friends, and if no one else joined the cause, she refused to put them in danger.

Eight o’clock arrived, and Niki’s heart was in her throat. Bad and Skeppy came downstairs to light a fire and some candles, and to make tea to try and force her to calm down. She’d practically worn a groove into the floorboards with how much she’d been pacing, and she didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

Fifteen minutes later there came a knock at the door, and Niki (who’d been forced into a seat by Skeppy and handed tea and a biscuit from Bad) jumped to her feet. The floorboards squeaked beneath her as she ran and a wide smile filled her face as she shoved her key into the door lock and turned it quickly, opening up the heavy door to see who was standing on the other side.

“Ant! Velvet!” She beamed, her arms moving to wrap around them both in turn. “You made it! Oh, I’ve missed you two  _ so much!”  _ She said, squeezing them to emphasise her point. “You’re going to have to tell us everything, I want to know what’s been going on, any information you have, and just how you  _ are!”  _

“We’re fine, we’ve been good, the week hasn’t been too bad.” Velvet replied, stepping inside with Ant close behind him as Niki closed the door and gestured for them to take a seat.

“Velvet’s already been promoted once.” Ant said with a laugh, and Velvet rolled his eyes in response as the pair settled comfortably on an old, saggy sofa. Ant immediately curled his body into the side of Velvet, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed a gentle kiss into the young man’s hair. Niki could see just how touch starved they’d been after just a week in the army, and she hoped the sacrifice they were making was going to be worth it.

“Hardly a promotion.” Velvet said. “They want me on officer training rather than soldier training.”

“Officers get paid more than soldiers, it’s a promotion in my eyes.” Ant replied, smiling up at Velvet. “I’m proud of you. Even if the army is supporting a morally wrong Dictatorship. I’m still proud of you.”

“It’s good!” Niki said excitedly, wandering to sit back with Bad and Skeppy (who both gave polite smiles and waves to the pair that had joined them - recognising the look in their eyes from the beginnings of their own relationship). “If you’re in different groups for training, you’ll have more people to talk to. There’s more of a chance you can spread things around, and we’re going to need as many people as we can get.”

The group was in agreement, and fell back into an easy conversation from there. Niki filled the two in on what had been done that week, on the return of some form of Internet - even if heavily censored - and the threats she’d received in the streets.

At eight twenty five, Niki was starting to get nervous again. She started to believe once more that no one else was coming, that despite all the nods of people that promised to join them it was just going to be… Them.

And at eight twenty seven, there was a knock on the door.

Niki sprung to her feet again to open it. Standing outside was a woman - around her age, possibly a little older, with dark brown hair. She introduced herself as Hannah and showed Niki the leaflet before coming inside and meeting the others. As she sat and began to make small talk with Skeppy, Bad, Ant and Velvet, Niki stood by the door and smiled. Her heart was pounding and she had her hands clasped before her as she rocked back and forward on the tips of her toes.

_ People were coming. People believed in her.  _

Hannah might have been the first through the door, but she wasn’t the last.

Everyone gave their name to Niki as they entered, and a little after eight thirty five the ten people that filled the room started to talk. It wasn’t much, but five people that believed in her enough to come to this first meeting was more than she thought there would be. It doubled their numbers. 

“Thank you.” Niki said, standing in front of the small group and gaining the attention of everyone that sat around her. “Thank you all  _ so much  _ for coming. I really didn’t know if anyone would come, and I can’t thank you enough for reading what we’ve given you and seeing enough truth in those words to join us tonight. I know things right now seem scary and dark and it seems like it’s going to be stuck that way for good, but it won’t. We can change things. There’s not many of us now, but we can stop Schlatt before he takes complete control and we can restore L’Manburg to what it used to be.”

She gave a smile, and the group clapped quietly for her. They didn’t know how loud they could be without attracting attention from outside, but Niki didn’t mind the muted response. She wasn’t here for an applause, she was here to make change. 

“I think we should start off by going around and introducing ourselves. My name’s Niki, I run the ABC Cafe and Bakery, and I’m leading the movement against Schlatt.” She said, pride and confidence filling her voice. “I’m nineteen. My family has been in this country - in this bakery - since the War of Independence. I’m not going to let hundreds of years of my family be wiped out because of one man.”

Sitting down and picking up her (now cold) cup of tea, Niki turned to look at Ant and Velvet to encourage them to speak.

“My name’s Ant. I’ve been friends with Niki since we were kids, and I’ve been working with her, Velvet, Skeppy and Bad for the last couple of weeks planning for today.”

“And I’m Velvet.” Velvet said, offering the new recruits a smile. “I’ve been friends with them both since school, too.”

“I’m Bad, this is Skeppy.” Bad said, waving to Skeppy who sat beside him. “We came to L’Manburg for a holiday to watch the games. When the Government started ordering all foreigners to leave we came here.”

“We’ve been upstairs in Niki’s apartment for a month now. We’re here to help, and we’re going to stay here until this is fixed. This might not be our country, but we care about Niki and we care about doing the right thing.” Skeppy added, and Niki smiled. Now it was time for the new members of the group to introduce themselves. The first person to speak was the first arrival, Hannah.

“My name’s Hannah.” She said, and Niki smiled at her encouragingly. “I’ve lived here all my life, my parents were immigrants from Snowchester. I’ve been suspicious of this new regime since it came into power, but I just thought I was crazy. All my friends did, too, I’d almost forgotten about it until Niki’s leaflet. I’m glad to be here. I want to help.”

“I’m Connor.” The first of three men said. He had brown eyes, dirty blond hair, and a chiseled jawline covered in stubble. “I saw the video online, the one of Niki carving onto the sign of the Tree of Manburg. It helped me think about what was going on, how fast it had all happened, and I realised that something didn’t add up.”

“My name’s Sam. I used to work for the L’Manburg Government, but I left a few years ago. I knew straight away something was up, I’m glad Niki’s brave enough to do something about it. Whatever it takes, I’m here.”

“I’m Alyssa.” A young woman said, her legs crossed in front of her and her hands neatly placed in her lap. “I didn’t know anything was wrong. I thought this was all…  _ Normal.  _ And then I went for a routine health checkup. A screening. It was booked in before all this happened but something about it felt…  _ Wrong.  _ I mean, I didn’t really know what to expect, I didn’t do as much research as I should have done, but it felt  _ wrong.” _

“What do you mean, Alyssa?” Niki asked gently. “If you want to tell us, that is. If it’s health I understand if it’s personal.”

“The procedure just felt… Invasive. And I’ve been sick ever since. I think the doctor’s  _ did something  _ to me, and I think Schlatt had something to do with it.”

There was quiet for a moment as people took that in, before Niki turned to face the last member of the group.

“My name’s Jack.” He said. “I don’t like what’s going on. I don’t like that Tommy kid - I don’t think what Schlatt said about him being his long lost son is true. I think Schlatt’s playing with too many people’s emotions: he’s doing what he thinks will get people on his side publicly, but privately I don’t believe that’s the case at all.”

With everyone introduced, Niki got up to make a fresh pot of tea to share around with her guests, and let the others speak and get to know each other a little better. If they were going to work to overthrow a corrupt Government then they needed to trust one another, and that trust would only come if they knew each other. If they simply worked together, then true trust was impossible to achieve.

Standing behind the counter of the bakery, Niki let out a content sigh while the tea slowly seeped. She hadn’t known how many people to expect, but she was happy with five. And she was happy with the five that had joined: they each seemed to have some kind of disbelief in Schlatt prior to the leaflet’s Bad and Skeppy had made and had been spurred to action by them rather than introduced to their disbelief by her. It meant there could be more people out there that she just hadn’t reached yet - she’d only been baking and delivering bread for a week so far and there was an entire city full of people out there. There was bound to be more than five that didn’t agree with Schlatt, but most would just be  _ too scared  _ to say anything alone. 

While she watched on, one of the girls from before - Alyssa - got to her feet and walked slowly toward her. The girl was taller than Niki and her blonde hair longer (with the tips in beautiful, gentle curls), and Niki smiled warmly to invite her behind the counter. 

“I’m glad you could make it.” Niki said. “We need everyone we can get on our side. I know that this is only our first meeting, and I hope that more people will join us with time. I hope you know that, and I want you to stay with us.”

“I will.” Alyssa said, before gesturing her head toward the tea that was brewing. “Is there caffeine in that?”

“I’m sorry?” Niki asked, turning on the balls of her feet to look for the packaging that the tea bags came in. “Does it make you ill? I’m sure I’ve got something without it in if it  _ does.”  _ She said, thinking about the supplies she had upstairs. She was certain there was still a little powder to make up hot chocolate - she’d have to ask Minx if they could smuggle that in along with the guns and dynamite she was already planning on asking for.

“Not exactly.” She replied, and Niki could see the girl beside her shifting nervously. 

“Is everything alright?” Niki asked, stopping what she was doing to instead return her full attention to the girl. “You said you had a strange medical procedure - are you hurt? Did they do something to you?” Her mind flashed back to the night of the census - the  _ health reforms -  _ and she wondered what that meant. Maybe whatever had happened to Alyssa was linked to that.

“They did.” She said, her arms folding across her chest as she swallowed nervously. Niki could see in her face that there was something more she wanted to say, but that she didn’t quite have the courage to say it. She wasn’t going to rush Alyssa - she could speak in her own time and Niki would be there to listen, however long that took.

After a minute of silence - during which Niki had busied herself with pouring out some milk into jugs and finding pots of sugar, placing everything onto a tray to carry out to the others - Alyssa finally found that confidence she needed, and Niki gave her full attention to the young woman once more. Whatever was going on - whatever Schlatt had ordered to be done - she was going to be supportive. She imagined that whatever she’d gone through had been horribly traumatic, and the more that Alyssa was comfortable with telling her the more quickly she’d be able to stop it from happening to others.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Niki encouraged softly. “Take your time.”

There was a beat, before the young woman took in a deep breath and forced herself to look Niki in the eye as she spoke.

“I’m pregnant.”

# # #

Ant and Velvet had passed their fitness exams as expected, and after officially  _ graduating  _ they were sent home for the weekend, allowing them an easy way to get to the meeting that Niki had organised. They’d feared that they might have to sneak off the military base to do so, but the expansion in light of the recent drives and recruitment exercises had been so quick and so vast that there simply wasn’t enough space for everyone to remain on the base at all times. They were expected to be back at oh-eight-hundred hours again on the Monday morning to resume training in their assigned schemes.

So when they arrived in the cool morning rain, large drops soaking them from head to toe as they stood outside in uniform, the two found themselves separating. For the first time in years, it was going to be five days until they came face to face with each other again. Neither of them was happy about the arrangement - not after the weekend they’d spent together - but nothing was going to change what had to happen.

“Ant?” Velvet said quietly, attracting his attention as those that would be taking them away for training began to approach.

“Yes, Velvet?”

“Stay safe.” He said firmly. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and don’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself?” Ant asked, cocking an eyebrow, and he laughed as he saw Velvet scramble for some kind of reassurance that he didn’t think that  _ at all.  _ “I get it. Look after yourself too, I want to see that pretty face smiling at me in Niki’s bakery on Friday, okay?”

“Deal.” Velvet replied. Both men wanted to step closer to the other and pull them close one last time - Ant could feel it and he could see it in Velvet’s eyes - but they didn’t. They stood still and steadfast, and when their superiors arrived they marched away with the rest of their platoons for their training to begin.

By the time dinner came around, Ant was utterly exhausted. He might have passed the physical fitness test but  _ nothing  _ could have prepared him for his first real day of training. His arms felt like jelly - he wasn’t entirely convinced that he’d be able to lift his fork to his mouth for every bite of food on his plate - and he couldn’t even feel his legs. The moment he’d sat down, he knew he was going to stay that way until he was forced to move again. 

So when he was joined by another soldier - a Private rather than a man in training - he found himself dreading the conversation that was going to follow. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and take a nap sitting up…

“So.” 

His mind stopped. Ant recognised that voice, even if he  _ was  _ exhausted. He blinked twice and looked at the man opposite him, before a smile made its way onto his face. His eyes were still tired, but there was a little optimism mixed with the exhaustion now, too. “What brings you to the army, man harbouring foreigners in his friend’s closet?”

“Ponk…” He whispered.

“I knew I recognised you. I saw you last week but never had a chance to come and properly say hello. So, hello, I’m Ponk.”

“Ant.” He smiled. “You didn’t kill my friends.”

“And I should have been killed for it. You’re welcome.” 

“Why?” Ant asked, watching as Ponk shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth - the one true bonus of joining the army was the lack of restrictions on base surrounding food. He was much more alert than him (though he assumed that came with experience). While Ponk chewed quickly, Ant brought another mouthful of chicken to his own lips and started to slowly eat it, his eyes not leaving the man that sat opposite once.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” He said quietly, making a quiet popping sound with his lips. “Because I don’t like what’s going on around here. Because I always wanted to be part of the army, but this isn’t the military I joined. I joined because of the value system, because L’Manburg was a respected country, because I thought that by joining I could help people, I could make a difference in the world. I didn’t join to be a tool, used by an evil, power hungry man who put an equally evil and power hungry man in place as his General so no one would tell him to stop. I didn’t join to kill innocent people.”

“But you said it yourself, you should have been killed for disobeying orders. You still did.”

“My life isn’t worth more than someone else’s, so it’s not worth more than two other people’s. Whoever your friends were, their only crime was being in the country. They weren’t hurting anyone, Schlatt has done more damage to L’Manburg than they  _ ever  _ could.”

They went back to eating quietly together for a moment, both chewing on several mouthfuls of food before Ponk spoke up again.

“I saw the papers that Niki had.” He said. “What was she doing with the information?”

Ant placed his fork down on the edge of his plate, bringing a napkin to his lips and smiling widely behind it for a moment. Oh, he could  _ kiss  _ whatever deity was at least making  _ this  _ easy for them.

“A revolution.” He replied simply. “We’re starting a group to take Schlatt down. Niki asked Velvet and I to join the army and see if there’s anyone that can help us. We know we can’t convince everyone, but anyone with a gun and a strategic mind that could take on an organised army is going to be helpful. We need all the hands we can get.”

Ponk nodded, finishing off his last bite off food before Ant had even managed half of his. God, he was looking forward to sleeping.

“Well.” Ponk said, swinging his legs out from underneath the table and moving to stand in one swift motion. He grabbed his dirty tray, ensuring that his plate and cutlery were all balanced carefully on it. “Consider this hand in. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.” 

Without another word, Ponk left the smiling Ant to finish his dinner alone. With the promise of someone on their side - even if it  _ was  _ someone they already consider a loose ally - Ant found an extra little boost of energy to get him through his meal and the last few activities that filled his evening. He hoped that Velvet was having just as much success on his side of the base - wherever that happened to be - and his dreams that night were full of hope.

It might be slow, but the wheels driving the revolution forward were beginning to turn. Tomorrow there’d be more of them, and the day after that there would be even more.

  
There was a chance that this plan could  _ actually work.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, how would you feel if i told you to enjoy this chapter because it's the last "nice" one?
> 
> also, if you're reading this you probably enjoy mcc! well my friend & i are organising an mcc rewind for february 13th where we're all going to watch vods of the same mcc at the same time & live tweet like it's the real thing! if you want to vote for the mcc we pick, do so [here!](https://twitter.com/moonieisloud/status/1355165970231402500)


	19. Doubt into Determination

Monday mornings meant a new week of work - not that work  _ stopped  _ for the cabinet over the weekends - and like every morning for the last month Quackity wandered the corridors of the old parliament building. The soft purple rugs cushioned the sound of his feet along the corridor, his polished dress shoes not making a sound as he walked. It meant that no one could hear him coming, though there was no one ahead of him in the corridor that would be taken by surprise at his presence. The usual cabinet meeting started in a couple of minutes and as always, there was plenty to discuss. Quackity thought about the papers tucked underneath his arm, his free hand moving to tuck a finger over his belt. It wasn’t a meeting he’d have all that much to say in - thankfully - but it would be intense. He assumed that Five would be providing bad news, and that Schlatt wouldn’t be all that happy with him for that reason.

That was why, as Quackity continued down the corridor, he was unsurprised to hear already slurred, loud shouts coming from Schlatt. He couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, the words muffled by walls, but he could hear enough: Schlatt wasn’t happy with whoever he was talking to. 

Quackity paid little attention to it as it wasn’t unusual (even if it  _ was  _ a little early), until he managed to clock the other voice he heard in the room and his eyebrows furrowed as he came to an immediate stop by the door. He hadn’t spoken all that much to Schlatt’s alleged son outside of meetings - the young boy was inattentive and less than helpful - but he recognised the voice. 

He only heard two phrases come from the room:  _ “no son of mine,”  _ and  _ “I should’ve left you for dead”.  _

It was something he knew he shouldn’t have overheard, and he knew that he should keep walking, but it felt as if someone had placed lead weights in his shoes. He couldn’t lift his legs, couldn’t will himself to step forward once - let alone the few dozen times it would take to get to the meeting room. Despite knowing what he was risking by standing there, despite having the knowledge that an angry Schlatt stood on the other side of the door and could emerge at any moment, Quackity remained still.

Tommy was a kid. He wasn’t much use, he was more of a show piece than an addition to the cabinet, and he could be irritating at times, but hearing words like that shouted at the boy still didn’t sit quite right with Quackity.

A lot of what he’d been doing in recent weeks didn’t sit quite right with him - but what other choice did he have?

While his feet couldn’t move, Quackity’s eyes glanced to a new oil painting that had been hung in the corridor. It was of Schlatt - an obnoxiously large portrait of the man standing in military uniform (despite, to Quackity’s knowledge, Schlatt never having served in the military). The man had given himself this role and was acting as though he’d been born into it - he was no different than anyone else in the country and yet he strived to hold himself to a higher standard. He wondered if the Emperor thought of  _ him  _ as lesser.

He wouldn’t be particularly surprised if that were the case.

There was a series of loud noises from the room that Schlatt and Tommy were in. Quackity heard the smashing of fragile objects, he heard a cry, and he heard footsteps storming his way. Unlike the corridor the floors of the room weren’t carpeted, and Quackity had several seconds of warning to act naturally before Schlatt threw the door open. 

The Emperor looked at him from across the threshold, snarling disgruntledly before he spoke.

“What’re you doin’ here,  _ Flatty Patty?”  _ He asked, but in his drunken stupor he didn’t wait for an answer. Even as he stumbled past - more than an arms length away from Quackity - the Cabinet Secretary could smell the alcohol on his breath. Clearly he wasn’t expecting the meeting to go well. 

Rather than hurrying after Schlatt - ensuring he wasn’t late for the meeting, which  _ really  _ would have been in his best interest to do - he found that he remained standing in one place. He watched as Schlatt meandered to the end of the corridor, before his eyes returned to the door that he’d come through. He looked beyond the frame and into the room, and from his limited vision he could already see things he didn’t like.

Tommy was standing up, half leaning and half sitting against the table, with a hand at his throat. He was breathing quickly, his hair scruffed and his eyes wide. Whatever else Schlatt had shouted at him, it had clearly been enough to spook the boy.

Of course, Quackity didn’t  _ care  _ about him, he was just  _ concerned.  _ He wasn’t concerned because it was  _ Tommy, _ he was concerned because he was a child.

He finally found the strength to move his feet forward and took the steps necessary to join Tommy in the dining room - his footsteps only becoming audible when he stepped down from the plush rug and onto the wooden floor. Tommy’s head jerked toward him when the sound registered in his ears and he took several steps back, tripping over his own feet.

Quackity swallowed. The kid looked terrified.

“Hey.” He said, forcing his voice to be a little softer than usual. He didn’t want to alarm Tommy any further. “You good?”

“S-Secretary Quackity.” Tommy’s voice shook as he spoke and Quackity paused, not quite sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. His stomach churned as he thought about what Schlatt could have done to scare his heir so much, and the shattered china plate beside Tommy filled in all the blanks that existed. The bright red hand print on Tommy’s face helped, too.

“Is everything--”

“I think you’re late for a cabinet meeting, Secretary Quackity.” Tommy said much more smoothly, and Quackity’s mind stuttered. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting from Tommy, but such a quick recovery from whatever had happened wasn’t on the list. 

“Tommy if Schlatt did--”   
  


_ “Emperor Schlatt,  _ please, show a little respect.” 

“Tommy, you’re bleeding.” Quackity interjected, raising a hand to point at the boy’s forehead. “Let me--”

“You’re late for a cabinet meeting, Secretary Quackity.” Tommy doubled down on his words from before. “I can look after myself, I’ll be with you all shortly. Please apologise to the Emperor that I’ll be a little late.”

Silence fell in the grand room, the two looking at each other. Tommy held his ground and Quackity was utterly dumbfounded. The annoying kid with a limited attention span wasn’t the same person he’d seen at the meeting on Friday. He was focused and proper, and despite the fear he’d been in just a matter of moments ago he seemed to have brought himself back to reality quickly.

More than anything, it concerned Quackity. 

“You’re dismissed, Secretary Quackity.” Tommy said, before the young boy turned on his heels and swiftly crossed to the other side of the dining room. Keeping up the strong face was difficult, and he couldn’t deny that every step of his feet across the wood floor made his head throb, but he managed to hold his chin up high until he stepped through a door into another room and closed it behind him. He was alone now, and yet he waited until he heard the footsteps of Quackity fade away before he let himself break.

He hadn’t slept since Friday. Not really, anyway. After spending a day with Scott and seeing everything he did - being forced by one friend to perform the bone marrow aspiration of another - he hadn’t been able to close his eyes without the images coming back to haunt him. Not just images of what he’d done to Technoblade, but Tubbo too. Images of everyone he’d killed in  _ Battlebox,  _ the memories of Dream’s arms around him as he’d been dragged underwater in  _ To Get To The Other Side (And Whack A Fan),  _ the screams of people that had fallen in  _ Hole in the Wall,  _ it was all too much for him to bear.

Tommy was  _ allowing  _ himself to break, and yet he found that he couldn’t. He  _ wanted  _ to break,  _ wanted  _ to cry, but nothing came. It was as if the horrors he saw whenever he closed his eyes were slowly becoming normal. It was as if he knew they were bad things, but he was so used to them that they no longer seemed  _ bad.  _

There’d been so much suffering and so much pain, he was standing by the person that had caused it, and couldn’t even think of the things he’d done as  _ bad.  _

Well, he was supposed to be standing by him - he was  _ trying  _ to stand by him - but Tommy just didn’t seem to be enough. Despite being Schlatt’s long lost son, the drunkard would still hit him. Despite being the heir to the Emperor, Schlatt had no qualms about making his displeasure known. Tommy could taste blood in his mouth from the latest breakfast altercation as Schlatt had expressed his disappointment with his son.

Maybe, if he tried just a  _ little bit  _ harder, Schlatt wouldn’t hurt him again.

After all, Tommy had promised to be at Schlatt’s side. He’d had a sleepless weekend to think of the promise he’d made in  _ Sands of Time  _ and he’d come to the conclusion that it was a promise he intended on keeping: follow his lead, listen, learn. If he did as he was told, if he tried harder to be the heir that Schlatt wanted, then it would make everything he’d already done  _ worth it.  _ All the questionable decisions he’d made would have resulted in  _ something.  _ Really, if he gave up now, he’d just caused all that suffering for nothing.

He might as well  _ get something  _ for the pain he’d given rise to. 

Tommy brought a hand to his forehead, the tips of his fingers brushing gently against the small cut on that Quackity had pointed out. It wasn’t as if he’d been unaware of it, but it wasn’t that bad - Tommy was more concerned about the bump than the few drops of blood that seeped from his head. 

Schlatt had promised to protect him, and despite the harm that had come to him as a direct result of Schlatt he found that he didn’t blame the man. Schlatt had an Empire to run, and he drank. He was stressed and not entirely able to control his actions. He didn’t  _ mean  _ to hurt him, Tommy knew this, he just wanted to shape him into the kind of person he needed to be and this was the only way his drunken state could think of doing it.

Tommy began to walk again, his fingers pulling back from his forehead and his hand instead forming a fist that wiped bloody saliva away from his lips. He’d freshen up quickly - splash some water over his face and see if the cut on his forehead was enough to warrant a plaster - and return to the cabinet meeting. As soon as it was over there was more he needed to do before he was truly able to focus himself on the cause, but he knew exactly how to go about it. He knew he had the strength to do it. He would be the heir his father wanted. 

The faucets in the bathroom that Tommy found himself in were golden. While he was going to prove his loyalty and worth to Schlatt, he refused to let himself stoop to the level of agreeing with his taste. It was gaudy, and so much of it had been done quickly that it just  _ had  _ to be fake. When he was the Emperor, he’d have everything made to look a lot nicer. Instead of an awful mish-mash of whatever looked the most expensive, he’d have a coherent design. And a lot more red.

He looked into the mirror in front of him as he cupped his hands together in the sink and let them fill with warm water. His reflection didn’t really look like the boy he was used to seeing - not anymore. His curls were still the same, a little longer (though he preferred it that way) but just as bouncy as they had been back home. His eyes were still a bright blue and his lashes just as long as they had been when he’d left. He still couldn’t grow facial hair and there were still a few spots beneath his chin.

But the skin beneath his eyes was baggy and dark, and his jawline was a little less pronounced than it used to be. His posture was better - Schlatt had wasted no time at all in fixing  _ that  _ \- but it wasn’t  _ him.  _

Then again, the old Tommy wasn’t the heir to an Empire. It made sense that he looked different.

Tommy lowered his head down to the sink as he raised his hands, carefully washing out the cut on his forehead, rubbing water into the wound with the tips of two fingers. It stung, but it would keep it from getting infected. When his hands eventually moved away from his face they grabbed the side of the sink and he spat out a little blood, watching it mix with the water as it swirled over the white porcelain before him and spiralled down the drain. His mouth tasted considerably less of iron. He’d be fine. 

Grabbing a plush hand towel, Tommy dabbed his face dry. A few spots of blood were left behind but someone would wash it later. He tossed it aside after drying off his hands, too, and shoved them deep into the pockets of his suit. Without an event to attend he could afford to be a little more casual - wearing plain black trousers, a white shirt and a red tie - but now he wanted to prove to his father that he was good enough. He took a long walk to get to the meeting room, stopping in his bedroom to pick up a blazer to pull over his shirt, and he was doing up the final button as he stepped inside.

The heads of Schlatt and his Cabinet Secretaries all turned to face him in that moment and Tommy held up one hand apologetically. He could feel the eyes of Scott and Quackity watching him, but he could  _ see  _ the eyes of Schlatt rolling.

“Nice of you to join us.”

“My apologies, your Imperial Majesty.” Tommy said, walking quickly to take the empty seat at his father’s side. From there it was easy to smell the alcohol that seemed to follow Schlatt around wherever he went, and he gestured with a hand as he spoke (swiping a half-empty flask of liquor from under his father’s nose). “Please continue.”

“As I was saying.” Five sat at the other end of the table, and Tommy watched as he shifted a little in his seat. “Journalists are increasingly calling on their governments to pressure us into letting them inside. They want to report,  _ obviously,  _ but so long as they aren’t allowed in here there’s no evidence of what’s going on. Countries are slowly starting to pull out of trade agreements - just yesterday the Province of Galeetopia declared all our deals null and void. That’s most damaging to tourism, though without open borders there’s not so much to worry about there. Snowchester won’t be exporting any wool products with us, though now that you’re in control of all the farms that  _ shouldn’t  _ be an issue as you can just redirect the fleece however you want it used. There might be less supply, but we can just charge people more.” 

“You can’t  _ just  _ charge people more.” Quackity said quickly, cutting Five off before he could say anything further. “The economy isn’t something you can  _ just  _ do things too, it’s a delicate balance.”

“We’ll work it out.” Schlatt waved a hand. “That’s what I pay you to do, and all your little workers.”

“Civil servants, sir.” Quackity muttered quietly. “They deserve a little respect.”

There was a beat of quiet, before Schlatt let out an inaudible mumble and redirected his attention to Five again. Tommy watched as Schlatt’s adam’s apple bobbed, and the Emperor began to speak.

“So there’s no consequences yet. We closed off all our borders and stopped all our trade, they’re just making it all  _ official  _ to appear like they were the ones taking a stand against us. No international bodies have said anything?”

“Nothing formal, sir. There were rumours about the United Nations saying something but--”

“--Let me guess, Mizu?” Schlatt asked.

“Mizu.” Five confirmed. “They seem to be our one ally right now.”

“Fantastic, we have an ally! Why the fuck didn’t you lead with that Five?” Schlatt raised his voice a little as he spoke, before dropping to a much quieter volume again. Still, he was too drunk to really whisper to himself, and Tommy knew that everyone at the table could hear as he muttered  _ “fuckin idiot”  _ beneath his breath.

“For what it’s worth, Your Imperial Majesty, I think as long as we keep everyone in that’s in, and don’t let anyone enter or leave, there’s no real international threat. We don’t  _ need  _ to continue expanding our army. It’s unsustainable.”

“Well find a way to make it sustainable.” Schlatt said. “Lauren, sweetcheeks, have you given any more thought to that email?”

“Sir--” Lauren sat up straight, and Tommy raised his eyebrows. Whatever had been emailed to her, he was beyond intrigued. “That would break dozens of conventions. I know what we’re already doing here isn’t exactly something the rest of the world will look at us fondly for, but for the most part they’ll leave our national affairs to us - am I right Five?”

“Yes, very much so.” He nodded. “But if you want to start messing with the nuclear arsenal, people will see that. We can keep people out, but activity like that will be seen from space, satellites will pick up what we’re doing and the international community can start to build a picture of what’s really going on here.”

“I don’t wanna be caught short, I’m sorry.” Schlatt said, his hands moving in front of him. “I want those nukes armed and ready to go at a push of a button. Make it bioscanned or some shit, and have a backup code for Tommy, just in case they get to me before I can press it.”

“That needs funding, Your Imperial Majesty. We can’t just do this all for free.” Lauren interjected.

“Sure we fuckin’ can!” Schlatt laughed. “We’re in control here. So it’s agreed. Lauren, get those nukes hooked up to my bunker, let me know when you need me to come scan my eyeball or whatever shit you decide you wanna do. If people refuse to work, we’ll just withhold their food. They’ll come around soon enough.” 

As Schlatt finished talking, a wide smile bringing little dimples to rosy cheeks, Tommy looked down to the agenda in front of him. The bulk of the meeting had already passed, and he already knew how the next issue was going to be resolved. He glanced at his father, watching as the man got comfortable in his seat before he spoke once more.

“So, ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got a little miss know-it-all in the Empire.” Schlatt said. “Nikita Nihachu, the bitch from Simons Street.”

“General Punz saw her at the party last weekend.” Lauren remarked. 

“And we’ve all seen the video of her singing the old anthem at the tree.” Noxite said flatly.

“And the papers found during the search of her apartment.” Rumay added.

“She’s a thorn in the side of this administration.” Scott said. 

“She’s a fucking problem. I want her  _ dealt with.”  _ Schlatt’s voice was low, his anger leaking out of each of his pores as his brows furrowed together and he brought the index finger of his right hand down against the table. “You said you didn’t want to do anything formal, Noxite, well it’s time to do something formal about her.”

“I have plenty of ideas, Schlatt.” Noxite smiled in return. “How creative can I get?”

“As creative as you want, but there’s two conditions.” The Emperor began, waiting for Noxite to nod before he continued. “I want the people to see her before we bring her in. I want an  _ example  _ made of her. If she’s snooping around then she’s learning things, and if she gets a whiff of anything then her little investigation risks becoming a full blown rebellion. I will  _ not  _ tolerate my plans being blown out of the water by some nosy little princess that thinks because she can bake bread, she’s entitled to anything else. Secondly, she’s to be  _ physically  _ unharmed. Whatever you do to her, Noxite, I want you to leave her in a good enough condition for Scott to use.”

Tommy could see Scott’s face lighting up from the corner of his eye. He knew he’d only seen the first part of what Scott was doing, and he wondered if now he’d get to see the second half of his plan. 

“I’m on it. Lauren, can I speak to Punz about getting a few of his soldiers in on this? I could do with some help staging it all, and of  _ course  _ I’ll need a few hands to help bring her in. I don’t think she’ll come all that willingly if she’s seen even half of what we’re doing.”

“Of course, I’m sure the General would be more than happy to offer you assistance. It seems very much in line with his thinking.”

“Excellent. I want her here by Friday Noxite, and I won’t accept any excuses. You’ve got a week to bring her to me.”

“Easily done sir. I’ll let you know when we’re preparing to make our move, we’ll have everything ready for our demonstration.” Noxite leaned back in his seat, a wicked smile stretching wide across his face. “We’ll make sure that once we’re done with her, no one else will step out of line.”

# # # 

After the meeting was adjourned, Tommy had been quick to leave the room. He had plenty of work - he’d been roped into helping Noxite with his plan to bring Niki in - but there was something he needed to do first.

Tommy spoke to no one as he left the building. He felt eyes on him as he wandered through the cobbled streets, but those eyes watched him with something between  _ fear  _ and  _ curiosity  _ rather than anything else. When a few light drops of rain began to fall on the fabric of his blazer a woman rushed toward him with an umbrella, and he took it with little more than a smile of thanks being cast in her direction.

The walk from the parliamentary building - that place that he now had the honour of calling his home - to the stadium didn’t take particularly long, and as soon as he was spotted closing in on the back door he was let in. He could get used to things being  _ this easy.  _

Walking the corridors of the stadium felt strange. He’d been here once with his father since waking up, but he’d still been in a dazed state then. Now that he was much more lucid he could remember the night of the Opening Ceremony, walking side by side with Phil, Scott and Fundy as they’d approached the stasis chambers. He recognised the piping and the wires, and when he reached the door at the end of the corridor (fans spinning fast enough to blow his hair back from his face) he took in a deep breath.

The last time he’d stepped into this room, he’d been with Tubbo. They’d been given a long spiel that explained how everything worked, how they were kept safe, and what would happen in case things went wrong. Of course, things  _ had  _ gone wrong (or right, depending on which side of history you looked at things from) but those contingency plans had never come into play. Instead of new bodies being created and the consciousness of the players being transferred into them, the contestants were left in limbo. Scott and Technoblade had been downloaded, he and Schlatt had too, it was proof enough that the other competitors were still in stasis and that it was just a matter of time until they were useful enough to be redownloaded. After all, if they were dead the scientists observing them would have been sent home long ago. 

Tommy stepped into the room, ignoring the glances of men and women in white coats, and he began to walk down the rows of chambers to find the one that he was looking for. The face of Dream frightened him, and that of Phil haunted him, but there was only one person he was  _ really  _ here to see.

It didn’t take long to find Tubbo.

Casting a quick glance to the scientists and medical professionals that filled the row, Tommy silently asked them to leave. They understood and wordlessly complied. Clipboards, sculkpads and papers were picked up, and the staff scurried away to give him privacy.

For the first time since he’d woken up in the Green Guardian’s dormitory on the server, Tommy and Tubbo were alone together. One was now the heir to an Empire, the other in stasis after being blown to smithereens by a firework.

“Hi, Tubbo.” Tommy said quietly, taking in a breath as his eyes roamed over the chamber. For the most part the door was made of a solid metal sheet, but there was a circular glass window that Tommy could look through and see Tubbo. He was exactly how he had been when this had all started - aside from the fact that he was currently missing a finger. They really  _ hadn’t  _ lied when they’d said that injuries obtained on the server would carry through to the real world unless the contestant respawned before being downloaded. He didn’t want to know how that worked - the scientists could do their job and he’d do his.

“I wanted to come see you.” Tommy looked at Tubbo’s face. His skin was covered in a criss-cross network of white lines and he quickly realised that those white lines were scar tissue, the traces of burns that he’d received in the split second the firework had hit. He supposed that his body had been blown apart and he’d died too quickly for the burns to get  _ too  _ bad. That was a good thing, he thought.

“I wanted to say a few things before I do this.” Tommy folded his arms across his chest, the fingers of one hand pinching at the fabric of his blazer that had crinkled at his elbow. “I’m standing by Schlatt. If I don’t, then everything I did is meaningless. He might do bad things but he’s kept his promise, he’s protecting me, so I’m going to keep mine. I’m going to stand by his side, I’m going to help him, and I’m going to become the heir he wants… Tubbo, he says he’s my  _ father,  _ how could I not? I thought I knew who I was, I thought I knew my family, but my mother  _ stole me  _ from him. Everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie, Tubbo, what else am I supposed to do? I don’t know  _ who I am,  _ maybe if I follow my dad, if I do what he tells me, maybe I’ll figure it out eventually.” 

Tommy shifted where he stood, swallowing as his eyes looked down. 

“Thank you for letting me kill you, Tubbo. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t told me it was okay. I probably wouldn’t be standing here, now, that’s for sure. It might have been a bad thing, and I might be  _ doing  _ bad things by standing at my father’s side, but I don’t think I’m being a bad person. You’d understand, Tubbo. I know you would. I know you’d forgive me.”

Talking to Tubbo without receiving any kind of response felt wrong, Tommy didn’t like the silence and stillness of the boy in the stasis chamber, but he could see the slow movement of his chest that told him he was still breathing. Tubbo was still alive, and that was enough for him.

“When all the bad stuff is over I’ll ask my father if we can wake you up. When the rebels are dealt with and things are normal, when our rule is unquestioned and the streets are safe. You’re still my best friend Tubbo, and if I’m the heir to this Empire then one day I want you to rule with me. Me and you against the world, Tubbo, imagine that? Imagine how  _ brilliant  _ we would be.”

Tommy chuckled, the noise strained, and his arms fell to his sides. After taking in a breath he stepped forward, gradually closing the gap between himself and Tubbo until only metal and glass stood between them.

“You saved me, and I will never forget that. You gave me this opportunity, you  _ made me  _ this.  _ Thank you  _ Tubbo. I promise, I’ll make the world the best it can be and when you wake up everything will be alright.”

He lifted a hand, pressing his palm against the cool glass to feel just a little closer to his friend. Tubbo would be so proud of him if he could see him now, and he clung to the hope that one day he’d get to see that pride with his own eyes and hear it with his own ears.

“Stay safe, Big T.” Tommy whispered, his fingers brushing slowly over the glass as if he were touching the broken skin of Tubbo’s cheek. “The world will be ready for you soon.”

# # #

Niki was exhausted.

Her body ached, her stomach rumbled and her eyes were heavy. It had taken more strength than she’d expected to be able to stand in her shower and wash herself that evening but she wasn’t going to let something as small as that beat her: if she was leading a revolution then she was strong enough to have a shower when she was tired.

She’d changed into a soft, cotton nightgown that she’d owned for several years and wrapped a fluffy cream dressing gown around her to keep her warm. Her hair had been wrapped into a towel to dry and as she looked at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Though most of it was still fogged up she could see the skin beneath her eyes was baggy and dark, and her jawline was a little more pronounced than it used to be. Her posture was worse - the long hours of toiling away in the bakery, the regular night time trips to the border and a lack of sleep had truly had an effect on her - but she was still  _ her. _

Niki would be glad when things went back to normal: she would be glad when she could sit down with a cup of tea and not feel guilty for taking time off. Tonight had been a monumental effort on Bad and Skeppy’s part - they’d practically forced her to take care of herself. Now that she’d begun nothing sounded more pleasant than falling into bed for an early night (not that early meant  _ past midnight  _ to most). 

Spitting out her toothpaste, Niki twisted the old tap and watched as cold water began to flow. She rinsed her toothbrush beneath the stream before bringing it back to her mouth, her eyes watching as the water washed away the foam. After another short period of brushing she rinsed her toothbrush again and put it back on the side, turning off the water and sighing as the tap continued to drip. It needed fixing, it would be added to her endless  _ to-do  _ list. 

Her bare feet padded softly against the floor of her apartment to the spare bedroom, toes curling up a little when they fell against carpet. She smiled to herself when she took in a deep breath and smelled lavender, Bad and Skeppy really  _ were  _ trying to make her take care of herself. Even if the situation in which they’d met and become friends had been awful, she was glad that she had them. She wouldn’t trade their friendship for the world. 

Niki took off her dressing gown when she climbed into bed and instinctively reached for her notebook, only stopping herself when she felt paper already beneath her hands. 

She was supposed to be taking care of herself tonight,  _ not  _ planning the revolution. The notes she wanted to make could wait until morning, instead she would close her eyes and sleep. With a little over six hours until she needed to be awake it was going to be the most sleep she’d gotten in over a month. The wind howled outside her window, the glass shaking a little in the frame, but with lavender oil dropped on her cushions she found the sounds soothing. It was lulling her to sleep and the moment she’d pulled the countless patchwork blankets over her body and her head hit the pillow she was practically unconscious.

For the first two hours her sleep was relaxing and uninterrupted, but good things never lasted for long.

Niki was a light sleeper. Normally she’d wake to the sounds of Bad or Skeppy wandering around the apartment at night, and it wasn’t unheard of for her to wake to the sound of people stumbling around outside after they’d gotten drunk and couldn’t quite find their way home. She used to wear earplugs to help her sleep, but they’d been long since forgotten: if something was happening now she wanted to be able to wake up. 

It meant that the sound of laughter in the streets was enough to rouse her, and for a moment she believed that she’d  _ slept in,  _ but she quickly realised that the room and the world around her were still dark. The laughs outside her window were trying to be stifled - as if someone were trying to keep their presence a mystery - so rather than open up the curtains and peak outside to see what was happening she shifted to sit upright and swung her feet into slippers at the side of her bed. Reaching once more for her dressing gown she slowly crept through her home. While she walked she removed the towel from her hair, throwing it  _ vaguely  _ in the direction of the bathroom as the quiet laughs grew in volume for a moment until someone shushed insistently. 

Before leaving her apartment, Niki moved to her kitchen and grabbed the sharpest knife she could find. There was nothing wrong with being cautious. 

She reached for the keys on her shelf as she passed by, fingers instinctively rifling through the chain to find the one for her apartment as approached the door. It slipped into the lock and twisted easily, and she removed them and searched for the cafe door key while twisting the door knob with the same hand. A few moments of quiet passed as she started down the staircase, the only sounds around her the creaking of floorboards and the scuffing of slippers against wood. 

And then the peace of the night was shattered.

Judging by the sounds of glass breaking a few meters away from her it wasn’t the  _ only thing  _ shattered. Niki heard laughter and felt a cold wind slipping underneath the door at the foot of the stairs, and she began to move more quickly, hand tightening its grip on the knife as she jumped the last three steps and pushed the door open.

Bursting out from behind the counter of the bakery, her eyes quickly took in the scene before her. A group of three men - not the same three she’d seen before the weekend - were standing just outside her cafe. Two bricks had already shattered windows and a third had just been lobbed at the panel in the door. She winced at the sound of the break, glass shards raining down onto the floor, and the sound of the brick thudding against wood made her jump. It sounded heavy - if one of those was thrown at her head she’d be done for.

She supposed she’d better just hope they didn’t have any more bricks.

“Oi!” Niki yelled, walking toward the door with the knife in one hand and key in the other. She needed to be braver than them. If they were here to destroy her property under the cover of night - when they couldn’t be seen not just by her, but by  _ anyone -  _ then they were cowards. As long as she sounded stronger, they’d flee. 

“What are you doing out here?!” She demanded loudly, glass crunching beneath her feet. She knew full well they could hear her as they stumbled back a few paces, illuminated only by old glowstone street lights. She couldn’t see much, but she could see the fear of being caught in their faces.

Bingo.

When she opened up the door she made sure to twist the knife in her hand just enough that the light of the glowstone would reflect and they’d see that she was armed - that she was a  _ threat.  _

“Who are you?” She asked, knowing she wouldn’t get an answer. “What were you doing?”

This time the three stopped, pausing to look at each other, and Niki assumed that they were about to run. They’d already backed far away from the cafe, they weren’t going to be causing any more damage, she just hoped that they weren’t going to decide that they outnumbered her enough to be able to take her regardless of the knife in her hand. In all honesty, Niki knew herself that was true, but she refused to let it show. 

Instead of fulfilling her fears and rushing toward her, the three held their ground for a long moment, before the man in the middle gave her a smile and the two either side of him fumbled with something in their pockets.

“Long live the Emperor.” The man said, his voice raspy and low. “Do us a favour and don’t choke on the smoke. Die slowly in the flames.”

As the words left his mouth the two men either side of him threw  _ something  _ in her direction and the group ran, whooping and cheering as they disappeared into the darkness. Niki would have been afraid if she wasn’t so damn confused, and it was only when she managed to look at the two objects that had landed somewhat in her vicinity (and nowhere near each other) that she managed to piece together what they were trying to do.

A bottle had landed on the cobblestone path, smashing and covering the street and her legs with a splash of alcohol and a rag, and a few paces away was a lighter.

_ They’d tried to set her on fire. _

If their aim hadn’t been so terrible maybe they’d have succeeded. If they’d lit the rag before throwing the bottle they  _ definitely  _ would have, they’d probably just panicked after being caught and hoped that throwing the lighter in the same direction would have been enough. Maybe they assumed that when it hit the ground it would’ve sparked and flared for long enough that the fire would have ignited. Niki had no idea how likely that was to happen - if she’d been incredibly lucky or if they’d been incredibly stupid - but that wasn’t the point.

It had been a matter of days since the first meeting of the Revolutionaries, there hadn’t been enough of them to do anything other than talk and the group hadn’t taken any real action. This must have been driven by the video of her carving into the plaque at the L’Mantree, and now these people,  _ ordinary people,  _ had tried to set her on fire. Schlatt’s regime was giving those that supported him confidence to do things that they never normally would, he was giving them the strength to harm people that disagreed.

If that was all it took for people to go mad and try to kill her, she knew she needed to be more prepared. The more outspoken she and her group became, the more attacks would follow. The perpetrators would likely only grow in confidence and would quickly realise that they had an upper hand. They wouldn’t make stupid mistakes like this every time. Eventually she’d stop getting lucky. 

Turning around to look back at her cafe she could see obnoxious orange spray paint over the centuries old walls and her heart shattered in her chest. This beautiful building that had survived hundreds of years, a building that was as old as the city itself and told a story of hardship and struggle, had been vandalised. The windows were broken, insults were written into the stones, and she felt her blood beginning to boil. She understood that people could be upset with her, but seeing them destroy the history of not just the city and the country, but her  _ family,  _ was more painful than the words that had been written. 

How they couldn’t see the hypocrisy of their actions confused her, but she could see it. Despite the pain that the neon orange spray paint brought her soul the dark, old stone walls spoke volumes of reassurance. 

L’Manburg had been controlled by a power hungry ruler before, and L’Manburg had won. The people that loved this country and rejected Schlatt’s dictatorship were capable of saving L’Manburg again. Manburg would fall, history would repeat itself, and Niki was more determined than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy y'all might wanna have a check of the chapter count... instead of being a 27 chapter fic, it's now a 21 chapter fic that's the first in a series... haha... i'm sure that means that we're gonna get a happy ending...
> 
> if you're reading, double check if you've left a kudos! it means the world to me :] you can leave a comment too if you'd like - it's free, & you can always change your mind later ;D


	20. The Arrest

“I don’t know anything.” Ant said simply. “I know there were paper’s out in the cafe when we arrived, but I just went upstairs. I figured they were bills.”

# # #

“Nothing out of ordinary in her flat, aside from all the documents, but I think you’ve seen those already.” Ponk answered. “It was just her and her two friends, no sign that anyone else had been there.”

# # #

General Punz’s office was lavish, Velvet decided as he saluted the man. He’d been invited in for a meeting that afternoon - pulled away from his training to speak with him. It was the sort of thing that could never really be  _ good,  _ he just hoped that it wouldn’t be  _ bad  _ either. When Punz gestured to the seat in front of his desk, taking his own behind it, Velvet sat down promptly. The cushions were plush and comfortable even as he sat bolt upright, and he let his eyes wander for a moment. Despite the rest of the base being plain and utilitarian, the office was decorated beautifully. Every inch of wood was waxed and polished, the lights and ornaments on the desk looked like they’d been sitting there for hundreds of years (though they’d certainly been dusted more recently than that). It exuded the same kind of  _ ‘I’m better than you’  _ energy that Punz did himself.

“You know why you’re here, don’t you Velvet?” The General asked, and the man blinked twice. Ant had gotten word to him with a very vague reason  _ why  _ Punz wanted to see him, but he didn’t know if he was supposed to admit to that. He didn’t know if Ant was supposed to tell him that this meeting was coming, so rather than stall any longer he shook his head.

“No, Sir.” Velvet said. “Is something the matter?”

“Velvet, you were transferred to the Officer Training Programme because my men saw potential in you. Part of being an Officer - of being in Manburg’s glorious military - is being  _ honest.  _ Can I trust you to be completely honest with me, Velvet?”

“Yes Sir.” Velvet nodded hurriedly, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the General and bite his tongue to keep anything from slipping out.  _ Honesty  _ didn’t sit well in his stomach, not knowing what Ant told him he’d been asked. “What do you need from me, General?”

“I need to ask you a question, a simple question.” Punz leaned back in his chair, his arms resting either side of him and hands meeting in the middle - fingers just barely pressing against each other. “There’s an ongoing investigation into a woman in the city, and I’ve been approached by two of the Cabinet Secretaries to help with some things, offer up some resources, some men to help with her arrest… Of course, you’re probably wondering why  _ you’re  _ here.” He paused a moment, and Velvet wasn’t sure if he was expected to nod along or if it was just for dramatic effect. It didn’t matter, by the time the thought crossed his mind Punz had already begun again. “Miss Niki is a friend of yours, isn’t she? You were at her home the night of the census, and it’s been reported that some  _ anti-Government  _ propaganda was found in her home. I wanted to give you an opportunity to speak to this.”

Velvet wasn’t sure what he looked like - there was nowhere for him to see a reflection of his face - but he assumed his expression would be comparable to that of a deer in headlights.  _ Niki.  _ They knew about Niki, they were investigating her,  _ planning to arrest her…  _ Ant had told him that it was something to do with that night, but this? 

He swallowed, a finger twitching as Punz looked straight through him. 

“You were there that night, weren’t you Velvet?”

“Yes, Sir.” Velvet nodded. He couldn’t lie about that, they already knew.

“How much has Miss Niki told you of her plans?” Punz leaned forward, deeply interested in the answer that Velvet was about to give, and he didn’t have long to think about what he should say.

He’d already spoken to Ant, but Velvet had  _ no idea  _ what Ant had told Punz - the warning he’d been given was nothing more than a short sentence spoken in passing, there’d been no time to coordinate stories, no real plan. Punz could’ve spoken to the three soldiers that searched her flat that night, too, and if they were investigating her more widely then they’d  _ certainly  _ find something on her. They must have seen the videos of her singing at the Tree of Manburg, and some of those videos panned just a little to the side at the end, showing him. If he said he knew nothing, he was only going to put himself in danger. While he didn’t  _ mind  _ putting himself in the line of fire, there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to do anything that could lay a trail back to Ant. 

Niki was doomed. Velvet could think of only one thing he could do in this situation.

“A lot.” Velvet confessed. “Everything.” He admitted. “At least, I think everything. If she hasn’t told me something, then I don’t know what that something would be. I’ve been trying to talk her out of it for weeks, I didn’t want her to go down this path. Ant and I joined the army together because we  _ care  _ about this country, and I hoped that if she saw us doing this then maybe she’d reconsider her views. We’ve all been friends since we were kids, I thought she was  _ better  _ than this. At least she didn’t tell Ant about what she was doing, I managed to keep her from implicating him.”

“I see.” Punz said, nodding to himself for a moment before he waved a hand and gestured toward Velvet. “Please continue.”

“She doesn’t support Schlatt.” Velvet said honestly, his stomach beginning to twist inside him. “She never did really, we were all too young to vote but I know she actively spoke out against him even when he was running for President. She saw this as an opportunity to take him down. She was going to plan a revolution, but it never really gained much traction. People supported Schlatt over her.”

“Do you think she’d ever try to incite any kind of violence against the Emperor?” Punz asked curiously, and Velvet realised just how much of a corner he was being backed into. This was a trap, and he’d walked perfectly into it. He was almost certain that Punz was recording the conversation between them. As if the General could read his mind he chuckled and, with one hand, reached forward to press a small button on his desk. “Velvet, I’m going to introduce you to two  _ very  _ important people now. I need you to do exactly as they say, it’ll be best for all of us.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the pair before the sound of a knock at the door tore both their attentions to the other side of the room. Looking over his shoulder, Velvet watched as the door squeaked open and an intern poked their head around the corner before giving a smile and opening the door wide enough for the pair to step through. Velvet recognised them from the night of the party, but he pretended not to for his own sake.

“Velvet, this is Secretary Rumay and Secretary Noxite, the Cabinet Secretaries of Local Communities and of Justice. Ms Rumay has been leading on the census, she’s most up to speed with the details of Miss Niki, and Mr Noxite is assisting in bringing her to justice.”

“Good afternoon.” Velvet replied, getting to his feet to shake their hands as they approached him with outstretched arms and smiles that wouldn’t look out of place on the face of a snarling wolf, pinning down its prey. He couldn’t wiggle his way out of this one, he was connected too closely now, and he couldn’t save everyone. He might not even be able to save himself. All that mattered now was doing what he could to keep Ant safe, keep the military and the Government off  _ his  _ back.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Rumay said as they shook hands, her smile widening just a little. “Always good to see that there are such enthusiastic, talented young men signing up to the military. Manburg needs more people like you…”

“Velvet.” He said. “My name’s Velvet, ma’am.”

“He’s confirmed he knows Miss Niki, he was there on the night of the census, and she’s planning something against the Emperor.” Punz said quickly, filling the two Cabinet Secretaries in as Noxite shook hands with Velvet and they seated themselves either side of him. Suddenly the chair was a little less comfortable, and the atmosphere a little more tense. He swore he could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Velvet, if there’s something you know she’s planning then the more you can tell us, the better. We want to keep this Empire safe for everyone, not just the Emperor, and if she starts something then it could quickly spread. You can help us end this before anyone gets hurt.” Noxite implored, Velvet looking to his right and locking eyes with the older man for a moment before his attention was drawn to the left by Rumay.

“If you’re a friend of Niki, you can help us. We won’t do anything uncouth to her if she’s been saying that things like that are happening. I’m sure whatever she’s seen is just a misunderstanding and we can talk it all out, and if she still has an issue with the Government then we can take things a step further, but everything will be  _ completely  _ transparent.” She assured. “We want to set an example with her, to tell the people that there’s no need for silly little  _ revolutions.” _

“It’ll keep all of us safe, Velvet.” The General said, and Velvet looked back at him across the desk. Punz intimidated him. “You said you joined with Ant, a childhood friend, I’m sure you’d want  _ him  _ to be safe now, wouldn’t you?”

There was no saving Niki, they already knew what she had done, but it  _ wasn’t  _ too late for Ant. He could still keep Ant safe and the General seemed to have immediately figured out that Ant was his weakness. Even if his partner hadn’t been mentioned by name he would’ve done what he could to protect him, but knowing that Punz had his sights on Ant if he stepped out of line… He didn’t even have a choice anymore.

“I can help you.” 

# # #

“You know you shouldn’t be smiling quite so much.” Fives said, turning to look over his shoulder at Scott, and the other simply shrugged

“Can’t help myself, I’m  _ enjoying  _ it. C’mon Fives, crack a wee cheeky grin!” Scott prompted, his eyes lighting up. “We’ve only got a few minutes left until everything starts, might as well enjoy it all.”

“This is  _ work,  _ Scott, and even you have to admit it’s a little unethical.” Scott raised an eyebrow, and Fives sighed. “Point taken, but  _ still.  _ We have plenty of evidence against Niki, I don’t see why we need even  _ more.” _

“Because the things she’s done so far are more  _ theoretical.  _ It’s planning, intention, she’s only  _ really  _ trespassed once and committed a small act of vandalisation. We know she intends on doing more but if people think we’re doing this just because she wrote a few notes then they won’t support us.”

“So we’re going to blow up a statue and frame her?”

“Better than waiting for her to blow any of us up.” Scott said, tossing a stick of dynamite in his hands. “It’ll all be over in a matter of minutes, you can wash your hands of it. I’m doing all the dirty work.”

“Which is why it worries me that you’re smiling.” Fives leaned back against a wall that surrounded the quiet corner of the city they were in. It was Thursday afternoon, they’d set up most of the explosives the night before and all they needed now was to throw one from the right angle when the commotion that Noxite and Rumay had planned was caused. It was all  _ far  _ more extravagant than it needed to be, but it was going to draw attention and draw quick support for the Government. For the few that weren’t in on the plan they’d see a woman chased by soldiers, and they’d see a statue explode as she ran past. The more eagle eyed would likely spot the dynamite flying through the air - the dynamite coming from the same direction she’d run from - and they’d see her true colours. Just because it was staged didn’t mean it was faked.

It would be easy to silence any nay-sayers. Anyone that opposed the official narrative of the incident could be diagnosed with some kind of stress or trauma - Scott  _ was  _ the Secretary of Health, after all.

“Relax,  _ everything  _ will go according to plan. He’s awake, everything here is set, the stage is ready. Niki is  _ ours  _ and everything will be  _ fine.” _ Scott reassured him, his smile only widening as the distant sound of angry shouts and fast footsteps began to grow in volume.

“I think that’s what I’m afraid of.” Fives admitted, swallowing as he took a breath and walked away from Scott. There wasn’t enough explosive material in the statue for him to be hurt when it went off, but he still kept his head down and his eyes on the ground to look for the spike he was supposed to be standing on: close enough that he’d be covered in dust, far enough away that he wouldn’t be critically injured. Destroying a beloved, historical statue of the country’s founder wasn’t enough, Niki had to look as if she’d attempted to do  _ real damage  _ to a Government official to  _ really  _ be prosecuted in the court of public opinion.

Standing on the spot that had been marked with a stray pebble, Fives steeled himself. At least he knew what was about to happen, he’d have enough notice to cover his eyes from the flash before it happened. The other few people in the square had no idea what was coming, though, and he prayed that Scott’s aim would be perfect. Any miscalculation could be devastating.

It would help their cause if they could blame it on Niki, but if word got out about the truth then there wouldn’t be a leg for any of them to stand on.

The attention of everyone in the square now was focused on the street, necks craning and people leaning to look around the corner as the commotion got closer and closer. When the group came into view, Fives watched on with an unbreaking gaze. Niki ran as fast as she could, pursued closely by four soldiers. The woman didn’t particularly strike him as someone that would try to flee, she seemed more like the person to accept her arrest and fight her case with words, but he supposed he wasn’t  _ in  _ on every detail of that part of the plan. He didn’t need to be. Clearly Noxite and Rumay knew what they were doing.

She stumbled a little as she ran by, and Scott used that split second as cover to light and throw the dynamite he held. It was small enough that, while distracted, no one picked up on it. No one had seen  _ who  _ threw it.

Perfect.

The dynamite landed almost in the palm of the hand of General Wilbur, and Fives closed his eyes tightly. His hands balled up at his sides into tight fists and he took in a deep breath, any second now…

_ Boom. _

Even with his eyes shut, Fives knew the exact moment that the dynamite Scott had thrown exploded. He heard the bang, and while it had been loud for a millisecond it was immediately followed by a  _ much  _ larger explosion, one that was larger than they’d expected. He’d felt himself being thrown back by the pulse of hot air sent his way, the force enough to push him off his feet. By the time he landed - painfully, on his side on the cobblestone beneath him - the exploded pieces of statue were starting to rain down on him and the others that had been close enough to be knocked down. As the ringing in his ears began to fade and he became more aware of his surroundings he could tell that anyone that  _ hadn’t  _ been caught up in the explosion was already running in the opposite direction. He could hear their screams, he could hear the cries of a young woman that had been standing closer than him, the shouts for help from people that had been hurt.

Cursing under his breath, Fives got to his feet and looked around. Scott had rushed to the aid of the woman that seemed to have ended up in the worst condition. He might have been dazed, but there were a few people more injured than him and he knew he could help too. It wouldn’t exactly look good for the Emperor if his cabinet just stood around when people were hurting.

Besides, Niki seemed to be fairly well taken care of.

# # #

Niki’s heart was racing, she swore she could feel the beating of the muscle against her ribcage, swore she could hear her blood pumping faster through her body than it ever had before. She’d been delivering bread, handing out a few fliers where she could, and then she’d been running for her life. Soldiers had surrounded her on three sides, pinning her to the building that she’d been standing in front of. When she’d seen Velvet her heart had shattered, and then he’d done one  _ tiny  _ thing that gave her hope that he hadn’t been brainwashed by the military.

He mouthed for her to run, and run she did.

She’d dropped her basket, dropped everything, and ducked underneath their arms to start running. She’d twisted through back alleys and hidden in the shadows, but it was impossible to shake them. Whatever she did, they seemed to be two steps ahead of her.

And even though Velvet had told her to run, he’d been standing in front of her with a gun in his hand, every bit as threatening as every other soldier. 

She’d stumbled as she ran past the old square, and a few paces later she almost fell to her knees entirely as the ground beneath her feet shook. Niki heard the explosion, but she didn’t let herself turn around and look at it. If they were throwing explosives at her then she needed to run faster, not look behind her.

Despite the fact that she had soldiers on her tail, she had one place in mind to run to.  _ Home.  _ She was no idiot, the Government knew where she lived and if they were intent on chasing her down and catching her rather than hurting or killing her then they wouldn’t leave her home untouched once they had her in their grasp. She needed to get back, to tell Bad and Skeppy to leave. If she managed to get ahead by a few seconds - if she had enough time to lock the door to the cafe behind her - then she’d have enough time to tell them how to get into the tunnels and how to follow those tunnels to the border. If they could get to Pogtopia, to  _ Minx,  _ then they’d be safe.

If the soldiers were coming for her, she needed to do one final act of good before they had her. 

Niki skidded around the corner, her eyes narrowing as she started running straight toward the sun. The day was bright and she cursed the weather for making it harder to see, but she could use that to her advantage, too. If it was hard for her to see, well the soldiers chasing her would have exactly the same problem. She was ahead of them right now,  _ she  _ held all the cards. Just because they outnumbered her didn’t mean they outsmarted her.

In addition to that, Velvet was with them, and even if he was playing his part perfectly he wasn’t going to do anything that would put her in danger.

She darted into a side alley, breathing quickly and letting her eyes scan her surroundings as she continued to move. There would be something she could use, _ something _ that would deter the man that was several strides behind her. There were a lot of somethings that she passed by, and as tempting as they looked and as well as they might have worked, she wasn’t quick enough to execute any of the plans her mind came up with. She still needed to outrun them.

“Get back here!” The soldier behind her yelled. “That is an order, Ma’am.”

Niki ignored him, jumping to the left and twisting her body to run behind another building. Her movement was too sudden for the soldier to react in time to make the turn, and he sprinted past the end of the alley. She smiled, knowing that turning around and picking up speed again would cost him a few seconds - and more importantly it would buy  _ her  _ time.

The cafe was a matter of minutes away now, she could make it, she  _ had  _ to make it.

As she emerged from the twisting, narrow paths onto the main road she let herself grin, a breathless laugh leaving her lips as she pushed her way into a crowd. Now more than ever, Niki was thankful for her short stature. She could blend in easily and it gave her a chance to let herself come up with a plan in her mind. She was certain by this point that she’d won herself the time she needed to talk to Skeppy and Bad, but if she had more time than she thought what else could she do? 

The yelling of the soldiers in the distance reminded her that she wasn’t away just yet, so she picked up the pace and lowered her head as she squeezed through dozens of people. Every step took her closer to the cafe, closer to safety, and when the time came to reach for the keys to the door in her pocket she felt herself shaking almost uncontrollably from terror.

But no one was immediately on her trail.

Velvet must have distracted them. If she ever saw him again, she’d have to thank him.

Stepping over the threshold she let out a sigh of relief, but she didn’t let herself stand and enjoy the moment. She had work to do, and an ever shortening amount of time to do it in.

“Bad! Skeppy!” She yelled, running without care through the cafe. She knocked over a pot of pencils when she ran behind the counter, grabbing one and sending the rest flying as she reached for a notepad she used to take orders. While she made her way up the stairs to her apartment, still yelling, she began to scribble things down and she thanked whoever had invented carbon copy pads. 

“Bad! You need to run! Skeppy you have to go!” She used her shoulder to hit the door to her apartment open, finishing off the message she’d written hurriedly on the paper and thrusting it at whoever stood in front of her. It turned out it was Skeppy, staring at her with wide eyes full of confusion and fear.

“Niki…?” He asked, and she left no time for him to say anything else. Even now, as she spoke, she ran to her kitchen and rested the notepad on a countertop to make it a little easier to write her next note.

“You need to run.” She said, her voice a little quieter but still just as urgent. “Soldiers chased me home, you can’t be here anymore. Minx said the border is open  _ any time  _ for people that need to get out and right now, you two need to get out.”

“Niki, we aren’t  _ leaving!”  _ Bad exclaimed, walking across her apartment with purpose. He pushed past Skeppy and straight toward her, and when she didn’t look up from her writing he grabbed a tight hold of her free wrist to force her attention to him. “We promised we would help you, we’re  _ helping you.”  _

“No, you’re leaving, you can’t be here anymore.” She said bluntly. “Whatever Schlatt is planning, he’s nipping our plans in the bud, we need to come up with something new but as soon as those soldiers have their hands on me there’s going to be people searching this place. If you’re here when they arrive, they’ll  _ kill you.”  _ She looked up from the paper as she spoke those words, eyes flitting between the two men that stood in her apartment. “If you stay here, there’ll be no food. You’ll starve if you aren’t caught. Go to Minx, to Pogtopia. She said the army can only help until the New Year because there’s no proof of what Schlatt’s doing, but if you leave here there’s proof. You can buy us more time and I can… I can figure something out.” 

Her hands came up either side of her face, fingers flailing as she searched for  _ something.  _

“Niki…” Bad began, and Niki shot him a glare. She could tell that he wanted to plead with her more, but she wasn’t about to let that happen.

In the moment of silence as they looked at each other, there was a pounding on the door below.

“You need to go now.” Niki told them, breaking her gaze away from her friends as she grabbed at the notes she’d written and started searching for a place to hide them. Her home was old, there were plenty of cracks, nooks and crannies that a small slither of paper could be hidden in and not look  _ that  _ out of place. They had their code, too, which meant that Ant and Velvet would be the only people left in the country that could read what was said. Even if they were found, so long as they weren’t destroyed, the messages she left them would be secure.

“We’ll do whatever we can from Pogtopia.” Skeppy said. “Promise you’ll stay safe?”

“You need to head north from here.” Niki told them hurriedly, purposefully avoiding the question. “Out of the window and north, up the road, for about a mile. If you follow the signs for the underground library you’ll find an old abandoned building. Inside there’s a ladder down to the sewer system, which if you follow long enough turns into tunnels.”

More knocks at the door echoed from below, and this time they were joined with shouts. Niki began to search through her cupboards, looking for any food she had that she could give to the two of them that wouldn’t be inedible. 

“Follow the tunnels until you reach the border, tell them everything. If she isn’t there, ask for Captain Minx, say Niki sent you and let them know what Schlatt’s doing.” She grabbed a loaf of bread, wrapping it in a tea towel, and a few pieces of fruit that were laying on the side. Shoving the armful of food toward Bad, she finally let herself take in a deep breath.

“You’re our only hope. No one else can get word out to the rest of the world about what this Government is doing. You  _ have  _ to do this.”

“Niki, you  _ have  _ to promise you’ll be  _ safe.” _ Skeppy stepped toward her, looking at her desperately, and she gave him a strained smile.

“I’m going to go downstairs and meet the soldiers, I’ll buy you both as much time as I can. Climb out the back and don’t let anyone see you, act casually as soon as you’re on the streets.” 

“Open up in there!” Velvet’s voice came from down below and the thuds against the door became much more spread out, but much more violent. They were trying to break it down. 

“I know it’s not been the best of times, but I really am glad that I’ve met you both. I hope I get to see you again.” Niki smiled a little wider, forcing her shoulders down as she tried to appear brave. She could do this, she  _ would  _ do this. She’d saved them and they would let the rest of the world know that the people of L’Manburg needed help against Schlatt’s tyranny, things weren’t hopeless just yet.

Skeppy stepped forward as if to wrap his arms around her in a hug, but the sound of a door splintering below cut short any moment that there could have been between them. Niki barely even had a chance to wave to her friends as she pushed between them and ran quickly back across the wooden floor of her apartment, bounding down the staircase two steps at a time. Her stomach twisted tightly inside her as she realised that the next hit would break down the door, and whatever Schlatt’s soldiers had planned for her would unfold.

She would take it. Niki would keep her chin held high and she would face their wrath with dignity and poise, and then she would go back to planning her next move. There was  _ nothing  _ she would let stop her from doing the best she could for the people and the country that she loved. As long as she was alive, as long as she continued to breathe, she would fight for what was right.

Stepping back out into her business she brushed her hands down over her clothes and walked past the counter that she used to serve her customers behind, walking slowly until she stood in the centre of the cafe. Despite the fact that her heart was racing she forced herself to remain composed, calm, and collected on the surface. She didn’t want to let these men win any more than they were already about to.

As predicted, the door shattered with the next hit. It split in two and the hinges sprung off, leaving it hanging awkwardly for a moment before it was pushed aside by one of the stronger men. The four filled the doorway, blocking out light from entering the cafe, and they quickly walked in. Velvet was the one holding the handcuffs, and she found herself thankful for that. At least  _ he  _ wouldn’t hurt her. 

“Miss Nikita Nihachu.” Began one man, pulling out a folded up sheet of paper from one of the many pockets on his uniform and opening it up. As he held it open and spoke, Velvet came closer. He looked an awful lot less apologetic now than he did before as the handcuffs he held quietly clinked open.

“You are under arrest for breaches of the Manburg Terror Act: Section 5, preparation for acts of terrorism; Section 57, possession of articles for terrorist purpose; and Section 58, possession of information likely to be useful to a terrorist. You are also under arrest for the conspiracy to cause explosions with an intent to danger life, and  _ for  _ causing an explosion. You will be held as long as necessary for the investigation to proceed. You will not be provided with a lawyer, nor will you be permitted to speak with one. Refusal to answer any questions you may be asked will be held against you when deciding your fate. Do you understand?”

Niki didn’t so much as wince at the words, nor at the feeling of her arms being pulled behind her back as cold metal was snapped tightly around her wrists. She nodded curtly.

“I understand.” She replied flatly. “I understand that Schlatt and his cabinet have changed the laws so that Human Rights can be more easily violated.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll understand just as well that we have ways to shut you up if we need to.” Another soldier spoke, his fingers tapping against his gun, and Niki let herself smile as she looked at him. He wasn’t intimidating, not to her. He might  _ think  _ he was acting tough, but if the only way he could threaten her was by indicating that he had a weapon then she knew he was no match for her in any other way.

“Are you supposed to be scaring me?” She asked him. “I’m not afraid of people like you.”

“It’s not us you need to be afraid of, sweetheart.” He told her. “It’s our boss. We’re the  _ nice guys.”  _

Niki rolled her eyes at that, letting out a laugh. The  _ nice guys.  _ She’d let them believe that for now, but as soon as she found a way to take Schlatt down she would come for them next. She would tear apart the beliefs they had built up, she would break down the walls they had made that reinforced their views, and she would change them. When Schlatt was gone, it would be  _ easy  _ to make L’Manburg into a better place, with  _ better people.  _

“Start walking.” Velvet commanded, and Niki did as she was told. If it were anyone else, she might have cast him a glance, but Velvet wasn’t like them. Velvet was on her side, and he didn’t deserve a berating look thrown in his direction.

The three other soldiers walked in front of her, guns cocked and loaded in their hands so that if she tried  _ anything  _ she wouldn’t be able to take a step away from Velvet before a half dozen bullets were in her chest. Velvet held her tightly, despite the fact that the handcuffs were already doing an excellent job at keeping her hands from moving, but she assumed it was all part of their act. Once she was in prison, once the two of them were alone, he’d be a different person. Now wasn’t the time to go back to their  _ normal  _ friendship.

As the five walked through the streets, Niki found herself being led toward the centre of the city. She wasn’t sure where they were going to take her but this certainly wasn’t it. When she saw what stood outside the parliament building, however, she realised what was happening.

The calm, collected face she’d been wearing turned into a snarl as she set eyes on Schlatt and his cabinet, the Emperor standing at a podium that had been set up for this very occasion. 

_ Of course,  _ the bastard would never just drag her into whatever kind of illegal torture he had planned.  _ Of course  _ he had to make a song and dance of it all.

She didn’t resist as she was pulled up the steps, she didn’t let her cheeks turn red with anger as she realised that a crowd was gathering, numbers growing exponentially as word had spread and as people’s curiosity was piqued. Niki couldn’t blame them for looking - she just hoped they would see beyond the surface and see that  _ she  _ wasn’t the one at fault here. She was a young woman, she was half as tall as some of these soldiers, if  _ anyone  _ saw her as the threat in that situation she would be impressed. For a moment she afforded a glance to the line of cabinet secretaries that stood behind Schlatt - and she recognised that two weren’t there. She wondered why they hadn’t shown up. Her eyes briefly met the young boy’s - Tommy’s - and her expression softened. He was a kid, he’d been dragged into this life against his will, she felt  _ sorry  _ for him.

The look he gave her in return was cold and uncaring. He clearly didn’t think the same.

“So, Miss Niki.” Schlatt turned to face her, his words whispered as she was pushed closer. They were reserved only for her, and she was half tempted to lean forward and  _ bite him.  _ “We finally meet. I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect you to be quite so pretty.”

“Go to hell.” She snapped at him quietly, and he chuckled lowly in response.

“Oh sweetheart, I think it’s gonna be you that’s in hell soon.”

With those words he turned away from her, tapped the microphone on the podium twice to indicate that it should be turned on, and he looked out to the crowd as he began to speak. Niki’s eyes didn’t leave him, Velvet’s hands didn’t leave her, and the three guns were kept pointed at her consistently. If she scanned the crowd, she was sure she’d spot  _ more  _ people with their rifles and snipers trained on her. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Schlatt spoke loudly, the microphone squeaking with feedback as the volume was adjusted. “Word spreads fast in this great Empire, and I’m sure you’ll recognise that two of my cabinet secretaries aren’t here with me today. Secretary Scott and Secretary Fives were involved in an incident that happened not too long ago - an explosion just a few hundred meters away from here caused by this young lady beside me.” The crowd gasped, and Niki’s hands tightened into fists behind her.  _ That  _ was what the explosion was, then.  _ That  _ was why she’d been forced to run by the square.

It didn’t make sense as to why Velvet had been the one to tell her to run, though. 

“I want you to take a good, long look at Miss Niki, and I want you to see how  _ normal  _ she is. I mean, she’s pretty, but she’s  _ ordinary.  _ She looks just like you or me. I’m sure plenty of people here  _ know  _ Niki personally, hell, even I’ve been to her bakery before. But don’t let those pretty eyes and that excellent bread deceive you, this woman is a terrorist. This woman plotted,  _ schemed,  _ and carried out an attack on the soil of this Nation. She hurt not just members of my cabinet, but other ordinary people. She  _ planned  _ to hurt more.” 

Niki felt fingers pressing against her fists and she relaxed a little, the contact from Velvet helping to keep her composed. She had a friend by her side, she needed to remember now more than ever that she wasn’t alone.

“It’s truly disgusting that some people would do such a horrible thing, truly disgusting that people we believe we  _ know  _ would do things like this. I need you all to know, going forward, that people like her could be walking among us and you might not even think about it. Think twice about the people you trust, if a family member  _ says  _ they’re doing something it doesn’t mean that’s the truth. We need to be careful. We need to work together as a country to ensure that we’re  _ safe.  _ I don’t want to lock the country down again, I don’t want to take away the freedoms you all deserve, but I have to take measures to ensure that - in the coming days - no further acts of violence are carried out by anyone that may be considering it, whether they have had contact with Miss Niki or not.”

“It is for that reason that I am announcing a curfew. You may still go about your business, you may still live your lives as normal during the day, but for the next week there will be random spot checks by soldiers and law enforcement to ensure that everyone walking the streets has their identity cards on their person. There will be a strict curfew in place between five-pm and eight-am, anyone found outside within these hours  _ will  _ be arrested. The measures are strict, I understand, but this decision is not one I have come to lightly. Our country, and its people, must be protected at all costs. We will  _ not  _ let people like Miss Niki win. Manburg will stand strong, and a new sun will rise over this glorious Nation. We will be stronger tomorrow, and we will be stronger together.”

Niki could’ve spat in his face. Niki  _ would’ve  _ spat in his face if there weren’t at least a dozen soldiers with itchy trigger fingers watching her. She’d be dead if she tried anything, so she didn’t. 

As Schlatt stepped away from the podium he took a step toward her, waving two fingers to silently instruct Velvet to step away. She felt the loss of contact like a knife in her chest and her hands suddenly felt so much colder when he let go of her. It didn’t last long, but the feeling of Schlatt’s fingers wasn’t quite the same. He grabbed her roughly, twisting her hands so that the metal of the handcuffs dug into her skin a little deeper, and she let out a grunt of discomfort - more a sign that she wouldn’t go silently than anything else.

“You want to be quiet, you little bitch.” Schlatt growled at her, breathing alcohol into her face as he pushed her to start walking with him. “This is  _ already  _ going to be bad enough for you, don’t make it any worse.”

As he led her into the building, Niki decided that she  _ trusted  _ him. She’d never trusted a word that had come out of that man’s mouth before, but she was fairly certain that a promise of harsh treatment was one that he would keep. To prove his point, as the other cabinet secretaries that had gathered behind him started to walk back inside only one followed her and Schlatt - Noxite - and Schlatt’s heir wasn’t far behind him. Soldiers still walked with them, escorting her, but she knew that Schlatt didn’t think of them as important. They were fodder to him. The fact that the Secretary of Justice and the heir to the Empire were joining them wherever they were going, though…  _ That  _ mattered. That meant that whatever was about to happen to her, it was something that was planned. It was something that was going to take that promise of pain and run with it.

But They couldn’t break her, nothing they did would extinguish the fire in her eyes or her soul. Whatever they had in store for her, she wouldn’t let it be enough to stop her from overthrowing them. 

  
It just might take a little while longer than she’d first thought...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha penultimate chapter, bet that means this is gonna end really well right?? who's excited for next week?! :D as always, comments & kudos are appreciated, just double check if you've left one as it really helps me out!


	21. The Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that this is a mature fic, reminder for the tags of the fic. we're reaching the end and - spoiler alert - it isn't going to be good. at the end of the chapter i've included a tldr so if you need to skip over parts, PLEASE DO, you aren't obligated to read anything that makes you uncomfortable <3

Stepping into the Parliament building was an odd sensation. Niki felt a hand moving to the back of her head, the palm pressing against her skull and forcing her to look at the marbled floor she walked on. There was little she could do with her hands cuffed, so with each step she took in a breath and focused on what she  _ could  _ control. 

Without being able to look up and see what was around her, Niki relied on her peripheral vision to see what was coming. She barely had a moment’s notice before her body was jerked sharply and she was turned to walk in a different direction, causing her to nearly stumble over not just her own feet but Schlatt’s too. He wasn’t pleased, grunting and tightening his grip on her already hurting wrists, before he yanked her particularly hard and the pair came to a stop. A second later, the soldiers surrounding them did too, and his fingers pulled back from her hair. She dared to look up slowly, loose strands falling in front of her face as Schlatt let go of her and slowly stalked around her. Despite being  _ free,  _ she didn’t dare move. She watched him appear from the corner of her eye and keep walking, her head turning with him until he stood directly in front of her and the two stared each other down.

She might not have been as tall as the man, but what she lacked in height she made up for in posture. Niki kept her back straight and held her head up high in defiance, jutting out her chin as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his trusty flask.

Niki’s eyes - the eyes of his son, Noxite, and his soldiers - didn’t leave him as he drank greedily, several drops spilling from the corners of his lips in his haste to gulp down everything the flask contained, trickling over the day old stubble that dusted his chin. He was much  _ messier  _ in private, his adoring Empire would never see such a side of him. When the bottle left his lips with a wet pop - a drop of the unidentified booze flying to land on Niki’s cheek - he grinned down at her. Schlatt was unsteady on his feet, wobbling ever so slightly back and forth, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from raising a palm slightly to the left of her face and quickly moving it toward her. It hit her cheek with a sharp slap and a painful sting, Niki’s eyes squeezing shut on impact and tears forming behind the closed lids. It burned like hell, but she willed herself to be strong. 

She couldn’t let him get to her. She could control how she reacted.

“Watch where you’re going.” He muttered gruffly, his voice a whisper and his breath reeking of alcohol. Niki swallowed, reopening her eyes just to make the point of looking directly at him, and he spun on his heels to turn away from her almost immediately. The landing was a little shaky, but he caught himself. 

“Tommy, Noxite, with me. The rest of you know what you need to do with her.” He waved a hand in the vague direction of the soldiers, and as he began to stumble away with his entourage the four soldiers ran to Niki. In a complete juxtaposition to the Emperor, the soldiers were straight backed, bright eyed, efficient and quick, and she felt her body in the hands of strangers once more. 

Velvet grabbed hold of her wrists - something she was desperately thankful for after Schlatt’s impossibly tight grip - and a soldier stood either side of her, holding her shoulders. This time she wasn’t forced to look at the ground as she walked, the final soldier leading the way through the twisting corridors until they came to a halt outside a grand oak door. Much like the rest of the building, it towered high above Niki’s head, and she craned her neck upward to examine the detailed carvings of cherubs and goblins. It could have been beautiful if this wasn’t the situation that she saw it in.

The soldier that had led her there opened the door, the hinges creaking as it was pushed slowly open, and she gazed inside for a brief moment only to be utterly confused by what she saw.

Niki was expecting some kind of horrifying chamber for torture, she was expecting to be led into a dark basement covered in blood, vomit and other questionable bodily fluids, but instead all there was before her was… A  _ washroom.  _

As her eyes took in what was before her, and her brows furrowed in confusion as her brain worked overtime to figure out  _ why  _ she was here, Niki was pushed over the threshold into the room and the door promptly closed behind her. She looked over the curved porcelain bathtub and the sparkling gold faucet and handles, watching as the first soldier took several long steps across the room and turned the taps twice to the left. Water started to flow, light from the glowstone chandelier that hung from the ceiling reflecting as bubble mix was added to the water and the soldier placed a hand in the tub. He moved it back and forth quickly to encourage more bubbles to form as the water slowly began to rise. It looked warm - judging by the steam rising - but not too hot as the man kept his hand beneath the water level. The steam alone was helping Niki to relax, and that in turn helped her to block out how much the men were infantilizing her. 

A click brought her back to reality, a click that was timed perfectly with a harsher grip on her shoulders. It only took her a moment to become curious enough to flex her fingers and slowly move her wrists, and she found almost immediately that her handcuffs had been removed. Becoming bold, she turned her head around and looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with Velvet for the first time since she’d been arrested in her cafe.

His eyes were dull, dark bags hung beneath them, and his face was as straight as he could make it. It pained her to see him like this, but there was nothing she could do to help him. He might have been armed but she wasn’t, and even if they tried something they would be outnumbered. She smiled at him weakly, her eyes not quite lighting up, and nodded her head just enough to encourage him to go on.

“We’re going to undress and bathe you, Niki.” Velvet said, his voice wavering a little. When the words left his mouth Niki felt herself take a slightly deeper breath but she nodded all the same. There was nothing she could do to stop them - nothing she could do without putting herself or Velvet in a worse situation than they were already in - so she said nothing. She forced herself to relax and to be complacent as her friend began to undress her, and she thanked whatever God that could possibly exist in such a cruel world that it had given her the small mercy of her friend being the one to do this to her. It  _ still  _ didn’t remove the shame of being stripped bare in front of three complete strangers, but she knew that Velvet meant her no harm. His fingers worked slowly and carefully, barely even brushing against her skin when it was finally exposed. Of course, the same couldn’t be said for the soldiers that held her in place by her shoulders. They let go of her long enough for Velvet to remove her arms from her shirt sleeves and immediately grabbed her again, their fingers tightly pinching her skin. 

She looked forward, refusing to face either man for fear that their eyes wouldn’t meet her own, and she listened to her surroundings. The quiet ruffle of clothing being removed continued for a few moments longer - Niki grinding her teeth together to remain strong when she felt her underwear being pulled down from where it had sat on her hips. She felt utterly horrified, but she  _ knew  _ that it was all part of Schlatt’s plan. They could very easily have ran her a bath and locked her in the room with a half dozen armed guards standing outside, guns pointing at the door, but he  _ wanted  _ to make her feel small. He  _ wanted  _ her to feel vulnerable. Niki wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of that.

The bath finished running a few minutes later and with a gentle push from Velvet, Niki started toward it. The soldier that had prepared the water for her stepped back to grab a towel and rinse off his hands and she was helped over the rim and into the tub by the two soldiers that held her shoulders. Even now, as she sunk into the bath (and her body beneath the bubbles), they didn’t let go.

Once sitting down and comfortable she felt Velvet’s hands breaking through the water and pull her wrists back behind her again, handcuffs snapping into place once more.

“Lean your head back, Niki.” Velvet instructed, one hand coming up to encourage her to move. “I need to wash your hair.”

Wordlessly, she did as she was told. As her torso disappeared beneath the bubbles and her shoulders dropped beneath the water, she felt Velvet starting to do as he’d promised. If she closed her eyes and forgot about where she was - about the fingers of men that hovered dangerously close to her skin and the eyes that, were there no bubbles covering her body, would be roaming over her - she could let herself enjoy the moment. The kind fingers of her friend untangled the knots of her hair, bringing handfuls of water and rinsing out the dirt and oil that had built up over the last few days. He pulled just hard enough that her scalp could feel the tug and she tried to imagine herself in the safety of her home, surrounded by her friends who simply wanted to pamper her. Maybe Ant would be making her tea, keeping her fluffiest dressing gown near the fire so that when she was dry she could snuggle up in something warm. 

Shampoo was massaged into her hair, then rinsed off once more. Niki eyes remained closed so as to avoid any suds getting into them, and they stayed that way when Velvet ran conditioner through her hair.

It smelled of coconut. She liked the smell of coconut.

“We’ll let that set for a moment, Niki.” Velvet said, his hands moving to her shoulder blades and pushing her slightly to help her back into a sitting position. As she did, hands immediately reached for her once more, still keeping her in place.

As  _ if  _ she would attempt to run now, but she knew it was more about displaying  _ power  _ than anything else.

While the conditioner was left to sit in her hair she felt a new sensation - a damp cloth being rubbed over her skin - and she focused on the pressure that was being applied. At first, Velvet just moved the cloth in a simple motion. He washed up and down her arms, very carefully over her chest, and under her arms before moving to wash her back.

It took her less than five seconds to realise that Velvet wasn’t just washing her back in random motions, but spelling something out. Knowing that she’d missed something - and not knowing how important the message could be - she cleared her throat. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Velvet to pause what he was doing and start over.

The first run of the cloth over her back started at her right shoulder blade, snaking back and forth until he pulled his hand away at her lumbar.




Another pass of the cloth was a simple circle:  _ O.  _ The next motion was repeated twice.  _ Two R’s.  _

“Rinse her off.” One soldier said gruffly - the one standing away from the bath. Niki opened her eyes to look over to him when he spoke and she felt the hands holding her grip tighter. He’d gone through her clothes, emptied out her pockets entirely, and seemed to have gotten  _ bored.  _ The fabric of her shirt had been torn with a knife, but she could see another pile of fabric that she  _ assumed  _ she would be redressed in. It didn’t seem likely that they were going to let her walk out of this room with anything she’d entered with. 

Without a final wash of her back, Niki was left with four letters. So long as Velvet had been spelling the word out in order it was perfectly obvious what he was trying to say.

_ Sorry.  _

Her body was moved backwards and her hair submerged in water as the conditioner was rinsed out. As hard as Velvet tried to be gentle with her, the soldiers that held her tried to rush him along. Even if she couldn’t physically feel it, even if it wasn’t being voiced, she could sense the tug-of-war that was playing out around her. 

After Velvet had rinsed her hair completely and he moved back to signal that he was done, the soldiers that held her in place each slipped a hand into her armpits and lifted her with ease. She was carried, dripping water beneath her, a foot off the floor and she tried desperately not to shiver. The bath had been so warm and by comparison the air felt so  _ cold,  _ she wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in a towel. She didn’t even mind if the towel didn’t completely cover her body, she just wanted to be  _ warm  _ again.

Rather than be wrapped up in cotton, she was placed down a step in front of the first soldier and for the first time since her experience had begun she was glad that she was being supported by two others - her feet slipping on the tiled floor beneath them. If they hadn’t been holding her, she’d probably have fallen.

It was almost funny.

The handcuffs behind her clicked again as Velvet removed them, and the soldier standing before her reached for the item of clothing she’d spotted before. As she presumed, she was being dressed into something that they had provided, but it raised an awful lot more questions than answers and the clothing alone sent fear into her heart and mind.

Niki’s arms were moved one by one through the sleeves of the surgical gown, before being pulled behind her one last time and handcuffed again. Velvet was the one to tie the strings of the gown into a neat bow behind her. If nothing else, she tried to bask in the comfort of finally being  _ clothed  _ again. The gown was large enough that she was completely covered by it, and she could now relax to some degree. No one was looking at her, she wasn’t vulnerable, and she didn’t have to experience the same overwhelming feeling of shame as she had done before. 

“This won’t hurt a bit.” The first soldier said, reaching behind him and beginning to rifle through an assortment of equipment on the side. Niki realised that, from the bath, she had been unable to see anything that wasn’t piled high enough on the counter to be in her line of vision, and while she could quickly put the pieces of what she was looking at together the soldier was able to work faster.

She felt something sharp jabbing into the back of her hand and she hissed, earning a cocky smirk from the man that had just said it  _ wouldn’t hurt.  _ The needle was pushed further into her veins, and was then taped in place with several layers of surgical tape.

“What are you doing to me?” Niki asked, feeling brave enough to question him, but her query was only met with laughter. Of course she wasn’t going to get an answer, but  _ asking  _ felt like a little form of rebellion in itself. They wanted her to be quiet, to be subdued, and while she would allow them to do as they wished  _ physically,  _ she still had control over what she said. It wasn’t much that she had left, but it was enough for her to cling on to.

“It’s a cannula.” Niki stated, looking down at her hand and watching with a twisting stomach as a small tube was hooked up to it. There were no machines to be seen, which meant that whatever they intended on injecting her with they didn’t have much of it. The effects of whatever she was given wouldn’t last for long, but if they were giving her some kind of poison they wouldn’t  _ need  _ to last long to kill her. That said, if they were planning on killing her then it would have been  _ very  _ odd for them to bathe her and dress her - they would just  _ kill her.  _ They’d gone to far too much effort to just  _ dispose  _ of her now.

No, whatever they were doing to her was going to be far,  _ far  _ worse than dying.

“Are you going t--”

“One more word of you and I’ll thump you hard enough to knock you out.” The soldier said, looking away from the tubes and toward her. She was in no position to argue or fight back, but that didn’t mean she would look away. Niki had already made it clear that she wasn’t afraid of these people, she wouldn’t change her mind just because she couldn’t use her hands. “Count yourself lucky.” He said, and she heard a quiet squeak from where his hand lingered.

The next few seconds were an odd few seconds. Her hand felt cold, then her arm felt cold, but from the inside rather than the out. Despite the horrific situation she found herself in - despite how bleak it all seemed and how hopeless it was - she let out a quiet giggle. Her head felt heavy, her entire body felt heavy, and she began to sway in the arms of the men that supported her. 

“Goodnight, Niki.” The soldier looking at her smiled as her vision began to fade in the corners and her eyelids began to flutter closed. After that, she saw his lips moving, but she didn’t hear a word that he said.

Whatever happened next, Niki didn’t know. She didn’t even remember the world around her going dark. All she knew was that one minute she was slowly falling further and further into the grip of soldiers and the next she was leaning her head to one side and listening to vomit splatter on the floor. She heard voices, more voices than before, and machines beeping all around her.

Niki didn’t have the strength to move back into her original position when she finished throwing up and when she tried to move her arms - wanting to try and push herself back - she found that she couldn’t move them at all. If no one else had been there she’d have  _ assumed  _ that she was just suffering from the side effects of whatever had been injected into her body, and in truth that could still have played a part in it, but the muffled voices and strange sounds that surrounded her began to clear in her mind, the fog starting to melt away as she grasped onto the straws of consciousness again. A hand came to her cheek, pushing her head back against whatever surface she was lying on before bringing a towel to dab gently at her chin and lips, mopping away the saliva and vomit that lingered.

“There, there…” The first voice that she managed to identify was one that churned her stomach again. Noxite almost sounded sickeningly sweet, almost sounded  _ kind,  _ yet she knew that the man was anything  _ but.  _

“I… Shh… Hmm…” Niki tried to will her lips to move the way she wanted them to, but only succeeded in letting out a series of unintelligible noises. Her eyes were at least beginning to focus on the man standing beside her but it was difficult - wherever she was she was surrounded by blindingly bright lights and Noxite was little more than a silhouette in front of her. If she was lucid she might have been able to make out a few more details on his face, but with each blink she seemed to forget what she’d seen in the moments before. 

“You’re alright, Niki.” Noxite told her, a gentle hand coming to cup the soft skin of her cheeks. She didn’t  _ want  _ him to show her this kindness, she wanted him to be cruel. It was difficult to hate someone that was being  _ kind.  _

“S’goin’on?” Her words were slurred together, but this time they were recognisably  _ words.  _

“You’re waking up.” Noxite said, and just as quickly as it had arrived his hand moved away from her. Despite wanting - only moments ago - him to be cruel, a quiet whimper left her lips as her body protested the loss of touch. “You had some anaesthetic while we carried you here, couldn’t have you finding out where you were being taken I’m afraid. It wasn’t much, you’ve been out for about two hours, but you’ll probably feel the effects for another. Next time you wake up you should be more lucid, and you won’t remember this conversation at all. You don’t remember the last one we had.”

“S’not… Velvet…?” She let her head fall to the other side, it was almost as if she’d  _ tried  _ to look away from Noxite, but she still couldn’t escape the man’s laughter. Bright lights surrounded her on that side, too, and it meant she was utterly incapable of determining how big the room was. 

“Velvet indeed.” Noxite said, sounding far too cheerful. Niki could hear the squeak of his shoes as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. “He’s the only reason you’re here. Well, he’s not the  _ only  _ reason, but he was a big help, told us a  _ lot  _ of things that you wouldn’t want us to know. Shame he wasn’t on your side.”

“He’s… M’friend…” She muttered, her eyes beginning to close. Niki suspected that if she’d been a little more cogent the lights would have prevented her from sleeping, but it was easy to slip back into unconsciousness when the effects of the medicine she’d been given were still gripping her tightly. Once again it was as if she’d blinked and the world around her changed.

This time, when she awoke, everything around her was clear. The shapes and shadows she saw were easy to define, the details on peoples faces were visible and the lights were so,  _ so  _ bright. Squinting did nothing, it only seemed to make the light that  _ did  _ enter her vision hurt so much more, and even with her eyes shut she could still see the back of her eyelids. 

“How are you feeling?” Noxite asked, and this time when Niki tried to answer she had no difficulty in forming the one word she needed for her response.

“Shit.” 

“Good.” Noxite replied, and Niki felt a hand resting against her shin. It was then that she started to become more aware of her physical surroundings in a way that meant she didn’t have to open her eyes. She could feel Noxite’s fingers on her, his thumb twitching and rubbing slowly back and forth over the stubble on her leg. Beneath her she could feel the surface she was lying on - it was stiff and uncomfortable, and judging by the fact that she couldn’t quite tell the temperature it was supposed to be she assumed she’d been there for a while. Niki tried to sit up, and while her head, neck and chest managed to move away from the surface she was lying on she quickly came to a halt. Something stopped her arms and legs from moving - something cold, and metal, and  _ tight  _ clung to her wrists and her ankles. Her arms were spread apart and her legs held together, there was no way she could remove whatever had been used to restrain her.

“Scott?” Niki opened her eyes for a brief moment when Noxite spoke, letting them flicker around her to see if she could see anyone else. There was still only one silhouette, but Scott’s reply came from the room rather than over a radio. The room was bigger than she could see, the bright white lights hiding things from her view.

“Yes?” 

“How  _ well  _ does she need to be for the procedure?” Noxite asked, and her stomach plummeted. Niki remembered being dressed in the suspiciously surgical looking gown, but she’d anticipated that if they were going to remove, add, or switch up any organs then they’d already have done it. What was the point in bringing her here if they were just going to force her unconscious again?

“What do you mean, how  _ well  _ does she need to be?”

“I mean, I don’t expect that breaking her jaw, if I so wished, would stop you from doing what you needed to.”

Niki’s eyes briefly widened, before the pain of the light became too much and she closed them again. What the  _ hell  _ were they talking about?

“Don’t worry, Niki, I’m being deliberately vague.” Noxite said. Was he supposed to be reassuring her? Was he trying to rile her up more? She couldn’t tell, and she  _ loathed  _ it. “You’ll be fine,  _ don’t worry.”  _ He squeezed her leg, and she grit her teeth. “We  _ need  _ you alive.” 

Those words made everything worse. Logically she already knew there was a purpose to her continued survival, but hearing it confirmed aloud by one of the men that she had been working against was never a good sign.

“If you need to physically harm her, tell me when and what you’re going to do. Something like that shouldn’t intervene but I don’t want you sending her body into shock, then she’d be no use.” Scott’s words were equally vague, and Niki decided that the best thing she could do then was ignore them. Ignore them and focus on what she could control: her breathing. She knew the pair were still speaking, but all that she focused on was the slow rise and fall of her chest. She breathed in for five, held her breath for five, and breathed out for a count of seven. Repeating that several times over helped her to focus on what mattered: she was in control of herself, her actions, and her words. She was in control of her mind. Whatever happened - whatever they were going to do to her - she still had some say in what the result would be.

And they needed her alive. They needed her body in a good physical condition. They’d told her that to intimidate her about what they had planned, but they’d given away one vital piece of information.

Whatever they did would cause her no serious, long lasting harm. She had the upper hand and they didn’t even realise it.

“So--” Noxite’s voice was raised, booming and echoing in the questionably sized and decorated room around them. “I’d like to confirm a few details with you Niki, if that’s alright.”

“Go ahead.” She smiled politely, trying to ignore the pain starting to grow in her head. She wasn’t going to let them win now that she knew she could beat them.

“Could you confirm your full name, date of birth, and place of residence?”

“My name is Nikita Nihachu, I was born on November 3rd 2001, and I live at 17a Simons Street.” She said without missing a beat, and without opening her eyes and subjecting herself to the bright lights she assumed that Noxite was content with her answer.

“Good.” He said slowly, holding onto the word a little longer than necessary. “18 is a little young to be plotting against a Government, don’t you think?”

“Do  _ you  _ think I was plotting against the Government?” Niki quipped back immediately, her confidence in the situation causing her to forget where she was. She might be able to come out on top, but it didn’t mean she could just  _ ignore  _ the context of the world she was in. 

“I think,  _ little missy,  _ that you might want to stop trying to be smart.” 

Even without her eyes open, Niki could tell that Noxite had moved. His words were quiet - hissed more than spoken - and spit landed on her face. She felt a finger jab roughly into her cheek and she flinched at the unexpected contact, but forced herself to quickly calm back down. She just needed to think, and while she could continue to be confident she couldn’t let herself become cocky.

“Yes.” She said, her tone much more flat than before but still filled with a half hidden brashness. “It is a little young to be plotting against a Government, but I don’t remember voting for  _ any  _ of you. My parents didn’t vote for you either.”

“You’re lucky your parents are dead, or they’d be here with you and I know for  _ sure  _ they wouldn’t be best pleased with what you’ve done.”   
  


Niki bit her tongue at the dark tone he used, holding back any further response. Bringing her parents into this was enough to make her blood boil, but taking the bait would only put  _ her  _ in hot water.

“What were you planning?”

Rather than jumping the gun and giving Noxite the first sassy reply that came to mind, Niki was slower this time. She gave the question - and the context around it - thought. 

They  _ knew  _ she had been planning something. There was no way in hell that they didn’t know (and have concrete evidence) that she had been plotting against them, but there  _ was  _ a chance that they didn’t know  _ what  _ her plans were. The documents they’d taken from her home were vague notes - things she thought  _ they  _ were doing - and they’d caught her sneaking around in the underbelly of the stadium, but none of that told them what she was planning. 

Unless Velvet had told them, there was a chance that this question wasn’t designed to incriminate her but to give them information. 

“I’m not going to tell you.” She replied, her words strong and firm. There was a long moment of silence during which she opened her eyes briefly to see Noxite staring her down. His lips were drawn into a tight line across his face and his brows were furrowed in thought.

“Who was involved?”

“Would you like to know?”

Rather than having to wait a moment for Noxite’s response, his answer came quickly and physically. The Cabinet Secretary stood, an arm shooting out toward her and his hand covering her mouth entirely. With the heel of his palm and the tips of his fingers he tightened his grip, causing her discomfort but not any  _ physical  _ damage.

“This is my game, Niki.” He hissed, and she felt her heart rate jumping. All she could do was repeat the same mantra, over and over again in the hopes that it would keep her calm:  _ you have the upper hand, they can’t hurt or kill you. _

“And these are my rules.” She heard, just far enough behind her head that she couldn’t look back to see, the clinking of metal against metal and she wondered what he was going to do. No question about physical harm had been posed to Scott, he wasn’t going to cause any kind of physical damage to her, but that didn’t put her mind entirely to ease.

“I’d suggest that you start  _ playing by them.”  _

Niki heard the sound of something sharp scraping against metal and she swallowed, taking in the deepest breath that she could with Noxite’s hand covering her mouth. She prepared for whatever it was going to be. In the next few moments that passed Niki heard something familiar, something normal, and yet she found that she was  _ dreading  _ it. 

She could hear quiet snips. 

“What do you think, should we go for a fringe?” He chuckled to himself, and the sound of scissors came closer to her ears. “Or perhaps a bob? I hear they’re  _ all  _ the fashion these days.” 

She was given no opportunity to respond, and when the scissors got close enough she heard the first  _ proper  _ cut. The sound shifted from metal sliding against metal to metal cutting through hair, and her eyes shot open once more. Even if the light was painful to look at, she  _ couldn’t  _ keep her eyes closed as she felt the scissors moving slowly around her head, she couldn’t ignore it as Noxite moved the hand over her mouth to grab locks full of hair and cut them almost at the roots. Niki counted herself lucky that she couldn’t see, she reminded herself that her hair would grow back with time, but it didn’t stop her from tearing up as she felt more and more of her hair being hacked away. It was done with little care, and from the few quick glimpses she got of the scissors they didn’t appear to be in the best condition either. 

Niki kept still, her head only moving when Noxite gave the hair he held a particularly strong and sudden tug. She presumed that he wanted to get more of a rise out of her, that the few silent tears escaping her eyes weren’t  _ enough  _ for him, but she refused to give him any more satisfaction than she was sure he was already getting from this. Maybe that was something she’d regret later, but for now she wasn’t going to let herself come completely undone because of her hair being cut. 

“Gosh, you look  _ lovely.  _ Mind if I call you Jeoffrey? You look  _ just  _ like him.” Noxite said, his voice light and airy. 

Niki didn’t give him a response. 

“Oh, come on Jeoffrey, say something.” His hand came to her jaw and instead of squeezing it tightly this time, Noxite just wiggled her head around. Niki found that with every passing moment she became more and more  _ terrified  _ of the man. Restraining her and shining bright lights in her face was horrible, but horrible was  _ easy  _ to deal with in her mind. Noxite wasn’t  _ just  _ horrible. Noxite had wiped away her vomit when she’d first woken up, Noxite had delivered words that would have sounded reassuring coming from anyone other than him. Now he was smiling, laughing,  _ enjoying  _ himself as he stripped her of her identity.

He was far more unhinged than he was letting on, and as he started to hum to himself she felt a cold shiver running down her spine.

“Well, Jeoffrey, if you’re not going to  _ say  _ anything perhaps I should. Perhaps I could tell you the story of my  _ friend  _ Jeoffrey, maybe it’ll help with all the hopeless plans you’re probably formulating in your head right now.” He chuckled quietly. “Jeoffrey was one of my very  _ first  _ experiments: you don’t become a success story like me overnight. I developed technology that revolutionised the world, I made it possible to sequence people’s entire genomes in a matter of hours. I created machines that would allow for digital replicas of their bodies to be created, for their consciousness to be separated from their physical bodies and joined to those digital ones. Whatever happens to the people when they’re in their digital bodies is mirrored in their physical bodies - that’s not something I didn’t learn without a few experiments along the way. Of course, I paid a lot of people a lot of money to ensure that no one ever  _ talked  _ about that, it’d be a PR disaster. Jeoffrey was one of the first experiments. He _ didn’t  _ survive his DNA being mixed with that of a spider, probably for the best really, but we’ve come a long way since then. It’s not a perfect science by any means - it’s why Schlatt wanted to do this the old fashioned way - but last year I managed to create a  _ stable  _ hybrid. Part Human, part Enderman. I suppose their DNA is much more similar to ours than a spider’s is… Might have been a better starting point… But I was  _ young  _ and the idea of a man with four arms and four legs was just too good to resist!” 

“Why are you  _ telling me this?”  _ Niki asked, her jaw set angrily. 

“Because it’s a  _ fun  _ story. Really, it should be a reassuring one, knowing that you aren’t going to be experimented on. Everything we’re doing to you works, we know it won’t kill you, I’m telling you what could have been. Maybe, once you’ve served your purpose as a vessel, Schlatt will let me play with you some more. What should I merge you with if he let me? I think a fish would be fun - I could try and make it so you could breathe underwater!”

“I think I’ll be  _ long gone  _ before I let you do anything like that to me.”

Despite her tone - full of determination - Noxite still laughed. He titled his head to the side, smiling down at her in a way that would have been handsome had it not been terrifying, and he moved the scissors away from her head. At least he was  _ done. _

“Oh, Jeoffrey…” He said quietly. “You’re  _ never  _ getting out of here.” 

When Niki only stared him down angrily his smile widened, baring his far too white teeth like a shark preparing to eat. He spoke again, his voice taking on a much more sing-song tone. 

“You’re  _ never  _ getting out of here.” 

His eyes sparkled when he leaned back, standing up straight and starting to walk around the surface she was strapped to. 

“I’ll be back in a while, when you’ve had some time to think. Once you’ve learned your lesson and decided to play along, you’ll have company again. For now, dear Jeoffrey, I’m going to leave you.” He said, and Niki’s eyes followed the silhouette of the man as he moved. The moment he stepped beyond those lights she was going to be completely alone, and she almost  _ wanted  _ him to stay with her to avoid that very moment.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be alone, but that because of the lights she had no way of knowing where she was, or what time it was. She had no way of telling how much time was passing, and she would struggle to sleep. 

Without being able to move, it would be as if she were in a void. 

“Goodnight, Jeoffrey.” Noxite said, and Niki saw his head turn to look back over his shoulder. He was too far away for her to be able to make out the expression he was giving her, but she was almost certain it was that same too-sweet, unsettling smile she’d received before. 

And then, in the blink of an eye, he stepped out beyond the light. He stepped out of her void, out of her universe, and the only confirmation she had that she wasn’t  _ entirely  _ alone just yet was the sound of footsteps walking away. It sounded to her like there were more than two pairs - as if it  _ hadn’t  _ just been Noxite and Scott in the room - but that didn’t last for long.

“I hope you enjoyed today.” Noxite’s voice came, a stage whisper as she heard the creak of a dense, metal door. “Goodnight.”

After the sounds of his whispered farewell faded from her ears, and the door closed with a heavy clang, Niki found that she really was alone. There was no sound, no smell, no sensation of wind and no changing in the intensity of the light around her. The pain forming behind her eyes - the beginnings of a headache - was coming on much more quickly now that she was alone and she closed her eyes to see if it would make any kind of difference.

It didn’t, of course, and she was unsurprised. Noxite didn’t strike her as the kind of person that would pick a punishment that had some kind of loophole she could exploit even when restrained and alone. 

So Niki lay there silently - though she occasionally found that she could hear the sound of her stomach gurgling if she was still enough - and time passed. 

Or maybe it didn’t pass.

The difference between seconds and hours was utterly indistinguishable. It made sense, Niki decided, since time was something that Humans had developed to understand how things changed. If nothing changed around her, if there was nothing to observe, did time really pass for her at all? 

The lights didn’t so much as flicker during however long she was there. Her thoughts - that had started off _coherent_ and _wise_ - soon left her. There was a brief interlude where she was haunted, reminded of things that had happened long ago. Every embarrassing moment at school, every lost argument, every burnt loaf of bread flashed before her eyes.

  
And then, for the next few seconds or days, there was nothing. She knew that she  _ tried  _ to sleep but on those occasions she had no such luck. She wasn’t sure if, at some point, exhaustion had claimed her and she’d managed to fall unconscious for some length of time, but it didn’t matter either way. The world around her wasn’t changing, no one was coming, she was alone in her white void and she had no idea what would happen to her if she ever saw people again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tldr!!
> 
> \- niki's taken into the parliament, after schlatt, tommy & noxite go their separate ways from niki & the soldiers she's taken for a bath. while washing her, velvet attempts to spell the word "sorry" with the cloth he uses to clean her back.  
> \- she's given a sedative, and wakes up strapped to a table with bright lights shining all around her. noxite & scott are there too.  
> \- noxite questions niki. she answers some, but refuses to answer what her plans were & who was involved. noxite retaliates by cutting off all of her hair at the roots, leaving her practically bald. as he does this he tells her the story of his first experiment, jeoffrey, and a successful experiment from the year before.  
> \- everyone leaves the room but niki, who is left alone in the bright white lights & has no idea how much time is passing. she's slowly starting to lose herself to the torture, but she knows there's more to come...
> 
> \--------------------------  
> oopsie daisy, this ending got long so i'm splitting it into two chapters! you'll probably get the last instalment on sunday so hang around for that :D
> 
> if you enjoyed, please make sure you leave a comment or kudos! it makes my day & we're nearly there so just double check if you've left a kudos, you might assume you did back in october when this started & not even realise you haven't left one yet ;D & of course, the comments act as free therapy ;D


	22. The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you thought the last chapter was bad, this one is worse. tldr is at the end again for bits you need to skip over <3

The lights turned down. 

Niki’s relief wasn’t immediate, the seconds or hours or days she’d been there meant that even when the lights faded dark splotches still covered most of her vision. But she could see more of her surroundings than she’d previously been able to make out, and with every moment that passed her vision recovered more and more. She could see, with the lights turned down, that she was in a large room, that there was a good deal of space between the lights that surrounded her and the walls. 

She had no idea if the same was true for last time she remembered having company, but she could tell that now there was an audience. Her eyes hadn’t adjusted enough to determine who the dark figures standing against the walls were, but when one approached her she could  _ immediately  _ tell who he was.

“Velvet…” Her voice was hoarse - she’d  _ clearly  _ been there for a while - and she watched as the straight, emotionless mask on his face disappeared for a moment as concern filled his eyes.

“I have rice and some water for you.” He said, sitting himself beside her. If she let her head roll to one side she could see his kneecaps, and if she glanced up she could see his face. The mask had only dropped for a second and he was immediately filling the role of soldier again. It made sense, she supposed. If he had given them information then clearly her captors believed he had betrayed her. He couldn’t be seen to be  _ friendly  _ with her now.

As she thought, she felt a spoon being brought to her mouth and she hesitated at the feeling of the cold metal against her lips. Her stomach growled, she  _ was  _ hungry, but she wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to eat. Not like this. Being fed was only going to solidify their position of power over her, and her position of weakness beneath them.

“You don’t have a choice, Niki.” 

Noxite’s voice caused her to flinch inwardly, and she heard footsteps approaching. She didn’t look in the direction they came from - didn’t want to see him any longer than she was going to be made to - but he was quick to take care of this. When he stopped walking and stood on the other side of her she felt a hand grabbing her chin, jerking her head around, and forcing her to look at him.

Still, she  _ didn’t  _ have to open her eyes. So she snapped them shut in the last possible act of defiance available to her.

“If you  _ don’t  _ eat that, then we’ll sedate you again. We’ll shove a tube down your throat and into your stomach and feed you that way. You’re lucky you have  _ this much  _ freedom now, we could hook you up to a half dozen different machines and take  _ any  _ agency you have. Ventilators can breathe for you, catheters can urinate, heart-lung machines mean we can remove your heart and keep you alive. Do you  _ really  _ want all that just because you’re too stubborn to eat a few spoonfuls of rice?”

Niki tried not to respond physically to his words. She tried not to let her breath catch in her throat, tried not to let the tears behind her eyes fall, but it was difficult. Spending so long in that bright, white void had left her in a weakened mental state. 

“And open your eyes when I’m talking to you.” He said, squeezing her jaw a little tighter in his hold. It was enough for her to remember his offhanded threat to Scott - claiming that breaking her jaw wouldn’t get in the way of whatever he had planned - and her eyelids flew back immediately. Her eyes were wide and wild, full of fear, and Noxite chuckled at the sight before him. After a moment he pushed her head back around so she faced Velvet again and she heard his feet shuffling on the ground. 

“Eat.”

Niki looked at Velvet’s face - tried to find some kind of sympathy in his eyes - but there was none. She tried to tell herself, as she opened her mouth for the first spoon of rice, that it was because Noxite was there. Velvet wouldn’t really betray her, right? He must have been backed into a corner, he must have done what he had to do, it wouldn’t have been his  _ choice  _ to side against her.

If it was, then everything would fall apart. He knew about the revolution, about their secret codes, about the others that were part of things. She began to chew slowly, her teeth feeling unclean after not having a chance to brush them since being brought in. The rice tasted off, but as she felt tears tracing down her cheeks she knew better than to question it.

Another spoonful was brought to her mouth and she repeated the action, eating without question. The fear of what could happen if she  _ didn’t  _ was still far too much for her to even consider doing something else. As she chewed this time she let her eyes flit away from Velvet and toward the water he’d brought her, hoping he’d understand her silent request. 

He did. She felt the rim of the plastic bottle being brought to her lips and tipped back. While she was lying down it was harder to drink but she didn’t care, she was  _ desperate,  _ and not a drop escaped her as she thirstily slurped it all down. The few drops that did manage to seep out from between her lips and the bottle were quickly lapped up, and she cursed herself for appearing so vulnerable. That was what they wanted from her - for her to be both physically and mentally weak, an open book willing to give every answer they wanted.

“Now, Niki…” Noxite began as another spoonful of rice was brought to her. By now, she was eating even without the threats. When she’d been alone she’d reached the point of hunger where she no longer felt it, but after starting to eat it had become obvious to her just how ravenous she really was. “I still have a few more questions for you, and you’ll want to be  _ very  _ careful with how you answer these.”

As footsteps began to echo in the room, Niki could tell he was moving. It only took a moment for him to appear on the other side of her, beside Velvet, and she looked at him as he spoke. 

“We’ve brought a friend.” He said, and she didn’t miss the way that his smile widened. “You should thank Velvet here for the company, we’d never had known that you had a soft spot for tall brunettes without him. Really, it’s just a shame  _ I  _ wasn’t the tall brunette you liked.” He laughed quietly, and then he went quiet. As Niki continued to eat she listened to the room around her - the sound of the heavy doors being pulled open, two sets of confident footsteps coming in and one lot of feet scuffing the floor as another was dragged in.

“What the fuck is this place?” 

Niki recognised that voice. She stopped chewing as soon as she heard it and her body attempted to sit up immediately, forgetting about the restraints that held her in place. It only made Noxite laugh again as she struggled against her chains.

“He’s alright.” Noxite said, his head looking over toward the door and gesturing for the new addition to the room to be brought closer. “Don’t worry, we know that if harm had come to him he  _ wouldn’t  _ be such a useful bargaining chip. Of course, he’s still a little disoriented, he’s only been awake for a few days and after spending so much time uploaded without a digital body his mind has deteriorated a little, but he’ll be on the mend soon enough.”

“Who  _ are you?”  _ The man asked, his voice louder now. He was being pulled closer and by the time he was over the threshold of the ring of lights, Niki could see him clearly. She knew exactly who it was from the moment she’d heard him but seeing him…

“Wilbur…” Her heart stopped. 

This was ridiculous. She had a _ crush _ on him, a crush that only her closest friends knew about. Niki was a reasonable woman, she  _ knew  _ that around the world hundreds of thousands of people would feel the same way - he was an incredible sportsman, a celebrity, he was pretty and he was charming in interviews - and she had assumed that nothing would ever come of it. Eventually, when she was less interested in the Championships, the crush would fade like any other crush did. He didn’t know who she was, he was never supposed to know who she was. Celebrity crushes were never meant to be  _ serious.  _ And yet here he was, in the same room as her,  _ suffering  _ because of her.

Suddenly, she started to wonder if Velvet really  _ was  _ on her side.

Niki could easily understand giving information on  _ her  _ if his hand was forced, but this wasn’t something that they needed to know. This wasn’t important to the cause she’d been trying to generate momentum for, it was something deeply personal that had put another human life in danger.

“Why does the angel know my name?” He asked, before a beat passed and his body sagged further to the ground. “Am I dead? Have I died? Why are you hurting her?”

“Can  _ someone  _ put something over his mouth, I’m going to get a headache.” Noxite groaned. “You aren’t dead, your memories should come back. Or maybe they won’t, we’ve never really kept anyone in stasis this long before waking them up. Think of yourself as an experiment.” Niki watched as tape was brought and wrapped around Wilbur’s unwilling mouth. The man was then forced to sit, soldiers standing either side of him to keep him from escaping - though Wilbur could hardly even stand unaided, it wasn’t exactly necessary. 

“See, Niki. Now your answers aren’t  _ just  _ about you, they’re about him, too. I think it’s much more fun when we’re playing  _ Russian Roulette _ with who gets hurt. You can refuse to answer all you like, but there’s no longer a guarantee that the consequences of your actions will be yours.”

With a final spoonful of rice forced into her mouth, all Niki could do was nod to communicate her understanding.

These people were sick. She’d known that for a while now, but seeing it play out before her like this confirmed it. They were monsters. They were cruel, uncaring, and power hungry. They had no qualms about what they had to do to ensure that they controlled everything, and that no one stood in their way.

But they underestimated her. 

“Did you try to smuggle things into or out of the country, Niki?” Noxite asked. As the question lingered, Velvet got to his feet and walked away from her, beyond the dim lights to hide himself back in the shadows. Noxite began to walk, pacing around her as he waited for her answer. Niki looked around, her eyes landing on Wilbur and taking him in as best as she could from the angle she was positioned in.

He was alive. Physically, he looked to be unharmed. If he’d only been awake for a few days then he’d been in stasis for over a month, and that would explain why he was so weak. His muscles wouldn’t have been used in that time and rebuilding the strength that had been lost wouldn’t be an instantaneous thing. His skin was pale and clung a little more tightly to his cheeks than it used to, with dark bags underneath his eyes. Wilbur was full of confusion and fear, and not being able to say anything only seemed to be making things worse. 

If Niki didn’t answer, there was a chance they’d hurt him. 

But there was also a chance they’d hurt her. 

“I…” She began, forcing herself to look away from Wilbur and instead to Noxite. He’d stopped on her left, looking at her with gleeful eyes. 

“I…” The word came from her lips a second time as she tried to make the right decision. Telling them revealed secrets that  _ could  _ still be used, it took away options that  _ someone  _ that wasn’t her could still be considering. It put so many more people in danger than just the two of them. She couldn’t do this. She  _ couldn’t  _ tell him.

“Scott?” Noxite asked in her silence, tilting his head back just a little as he called beyond the lights. “Remember what we spoke about?”

“You get  _ one.”  _ Scott replied, and Niki didn’t know what that meant. Not entirely, anyway, but there were things she could deduce.

Firstly, if Noxite was speaking to Scott then it concerned  _ her,  _ not Wilbur, and her resolve to not answer the question she’d been asked only grew. If it was her that was going to be harmed then,  _ morally,  _ she was content to continue. It didn’t mean she would enjoy whatever pain came her way, but she wouldn’t have to live with the guilt of another being harmed because of her actions.

Secondly,  _ you get one.  _ Whatever Noxite wanted to do, it was repeatable. It was repeatable and taking one would ensure she was still in a condition good enough for whatever Scott needed her for. Whatever was being planned, it wasn’t going to be the end of the world.

She could do this.

“Do you want to say anything more, Niki?” Noxite asked. Confident in her defiance, Niki shook her head.

Noxite’s smile widened.

“I’m  _ so  _ glad to hear that.” He purred, and she felt sick. The rice that she’d just eaten felt as if it was threatening to be regurgitated, but she forced the feeling away. She’d been hungry, and she didn’t know when she would eat again. 

“Tommy, could you come here please?” Noxite called and Niki took in a breath. She wasn’t sure if the fact that they were involving Schlatt’s son was  _ good,  _ or  _ bad.  _ On the one hand, he was a child, they might not involve him in some of the more  _ brutal  _ work. But on the other hand, if Schlatt wanted an heir like him then he needed to shape him into whatever mould he desired. He needed to build up Tommy’s resilience to things like this.

“Do you remember what we discussed?”

Niki looked to the boy as he walked into the ring of lights. He looked less and less like a child with every passing day. When the Championships had started he’d been giddy, smiling, full of life and joy like anyone his age should be. Now his eyes seemed darker, like the spark had been sucked out of them. His unruly curly hair had been cut short and straightened to give him a smarter appearance - one that matched the rigidity of his suit. He didn’t look like a kid anymore.

Her heart broke for whatever had been done to him. Whatever he’d seen to change him so drastically so quickly hurt her.

“I remember.” Tommy affirmed, his voice quiet and flat, and Noxite took a step back before gesturing toward Niki with his hand.

“Then be my guest. Your father will be proud.” 

As Noxite took his turn to slink back into the shadows, Tommy walked between Niki and Wilbur to reach the table at her side. She still couldn’t see it, no matter how hard she tried to crane her neck, but she remembered that it was the same table the scissors Noxite had used to cut her hair off had come from. It didn’t bode well for her that he was rifling through more metal objects there.

“Tommy, you don’t have to do this.” Niki said softly, trying to make her voice as kind as she could despite the fear that raced through her body. “Whatever they’ve told you to do… You don’t have to do it. You can be better than this, better than  _ them,  _ and you can help me.”

The boy didn’t reply, but for a moment he stopped searching. It was undetectable to anyone else, but Niki could hear the pause. The silence, however brief, was deafening.

Perhaps there was hope.

“Whatever they’ve done to you, we can make it right.”

This time there wasn’t a pause. There was a clatter as Tommy identified the tool he most wanted and swept the others aside when he picked it up.

“I am making it right.” Tommy whispered, his voice so low that only he and Niki could hear the words he said. When he took a step back, in her field of vision once more, she could see what he held. 

A knife. A long, thick, horrifying knife. And in that moment, all the mental acrobatics she’d done to reassure herself that everything would be okay seemed worthless. Everything she’d thought of to convince herself that she’d be  _ fine  _ was meaningless. With a knife like that, things would  _ not  _ be fine, and it  _ would  _ hurt, and the damage  _ would  _ be lasting. Tears came to her eyes again and her heart beat faster, her breath now shallow and quick as she watched in silence.

“I was promised safety. I did horrible things for that safety, things I didn’t need to do because I would have been safe anyway. If I stop now, everything I’ve done was for nothing.”

“And you’re going to hurt more people because of that?” Niki asked, her voice trembling as Tommy once again walked around her - keeping in her vision at all times. When he moved, the knife glinted in the lights and she swallowed.

“Yes.” He confirmed, not making eye contact with her when he came to a halt. Instead, he looked at her left hand closely. 

Oh, no. 

“Tommy,  _ please--”  _ She begged, though her words were falling on deaf ears. She felt the fingers of the boy starting to move her own fingers, pulling her thumb and index finger to the side, and her ring and pinky finger to the other side. It left a gap on both sides of her middle finger and her vision began to darken. She knew what was coming, she was breathing too quickly and her heart was beating too fast, but she couldn’t stop herself. 

Control of herself had been all she had going into this, but now she was struggling to cling to it.

The tip of the knife moved, the metal pushing ever so slightly at her skin. She could feel what Tommy was doing as he shifted it ever so carefully around, stopping when it naturally fell a little lower. He’d found the easiest spot to cut through, and the tears that had already been falling came so much faster than before.

“P-please, Tommy-- Please d-don’t do this!” She stammered, panic rising and sobs starting to tear themselves from her chest at the anticipation of what was going to happen. Knowing it would come any moment was almost worse. If he’d just  _ done it  _ then there’d have been no build up, but she could see and feel everything. 

“Which have you picked, Tommy?” Scott called, his question one of  _ genuine  _ curiosity. 

“The middle.” He replied, far too casually for Niki’s liking. “The same one that Technoblade took from Tubbo.”

“Poetic! Love that for you!” Scott’s joy was clear from his tone, and Niki whimpered. No one here was going to help her, no one was going to stop this. Her hair would grow back, but a finger being taken from her was permanent. The blade was pressed a little harder against her, just enough to draw blood, but Tommy still didn’t slide it all the way through.

She’d thought there was hope, but he was teasing her, playing with her. 

Niki closed her eyes and turned her head away, her cries echoing so loudly in the room that she couldn’t hear anything else. If anyone spoke to Tommy, if there was a countdown to the digit being removed, then she never heard it. 

And then it happened.

The pain was white hot as the blade cut through dozens of nerves, her scream louder than any noise she could ever remember making in her life, and with the quick beating of her heart the pressure with which blood spurted from the wound was high. She felt faint and she kept her eyes scrunched up in a futile effort to try and keep herself from feeling worse. It wasn’t working. Somewhere in the distance she could hear voices talking, Noxite and Scott she assumed, but she didn’t understand a word that they said. All that she could hear was the sound of blood pumping through her ears, she began to shiver without restraint and her head felt light.

The next thing Niki knew, everything was  _ okay.  _

Her mind was dizzy and numb, like it had been the first time she’d woken up from the anaesthetic she’d been given, and the world around her made no sense. She could see things, but every time she blinked she forgot them. When her eyes  _ were  _ open, she knew she was in the same room as she had been before. She hadn’t been moved, nor had Wilbur. 

All she knew was the pain from before was gone, and she let her eyes close again.

That didn’t last for long. A palm hit her cheek and a voice shouted at her, the words barely getting through. But barely didn’t mean they  _ didn’t.  _ It just took her a minute to process what had been said. 

“Why did you vandalise the Tree of Manburg?” 

Noxite was questioning her. Even  _ now  _ he was questioning her. Her head lolled back again - she didn’t have the strength to hold it up - but her weakness wasn’t enough to stop Noxite from pushing further.

“What did you see on the night of the party?”

In her state of confusion, Niki’s lips moved and spat out the first words that came to mind. She wasn’t even sure if they were her words when she heard them, she just wanted her body to succumb to unconsciousness again.

“You’re… Them in stasis…”

“You’re  _ useless.” _ Noxite said angrily. Niki wondered if she’d woken up before, if he’d been trying this for a while and he’d finally lost his temper. She felt something land on her cheek - not another palm, it was liquid. Saliva. He’d spit on her. 

She didn’t care. She heard his feet walking away from her and she closed her eyes again. Maybe the next time she woke up she’d care a little more, maybe she’d be lucid enough to answer his questions. 

Instead, the next time she opened her eyes was to the sounds of Wilbur screaming. It was disorienting to say the least, her mind was spinning, and before she could catch up with what was going on around her she was shouting at the top of her lungs.

“Stop!” The attention of all those in the room was moved to her. Wilbur stopped screaming - whatever they’d been doing to him ceased - and the curious eyes of Noxite and Scott found her.

“She’s awake.” Noxite said, and Scott smiled. 

“I’ll get what I need. Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”

Niki listened to the sounds of movement, of footsteps and doors, until a person was at her side again. 

“Good morning, Niki. I’m glad to see you’re back with us. We brought in a  _ proper  _ doctor, you’ll be glad to know, who grafted some skin over your knuckle. You were in shock for a little while, but you’re all better now. We wanted to wait until you were conscious for the fun to  _ really  _ begin.” 

“What did you do to Wilbur?” She asked immediately, deciding to skip over the information she’d been given. She didn’t particularly want to remember what had gone on before. 

“You’ve woken up  _ bold,  _ I see.” Noxite said, humming to himself for a moment as he considered answering her question. When he did, Niki found herself surprised. “A little coercion, you don’t need to worry about a thing,  _ sweetheart.”  _

“Don’t call me that.” She bit back, and Noxite just leaned down so his face was inches in front of hers. His grin was sadistic and his eyes mad, his tongue curling against the back of his teeth for a moment before he replied.

_ “Sweetheart.”  _

“You said you wouldn’t!” Wilbur shouted, and Niki tried to move her head to look around Noxite to see the man again. She hadn’t had the time to look at him since she’d woken up, to see if he’d sustained any physical injuries, and as Noxite returned to his side he kept Wilbur utterly hidden from view.

“I lied. I don’t know if you’ve figured it out just yet, but I’m not a  _ good guy.  _ You’ve already said yes, did you  _ really  _ think I’d keep my word?”

“I don’t want to join you, I thought I could protect her!”

Niki blinked a few times, watching the argument more attentively than before.  _ Protect her?  _ He’d seen what they’d done to her already, but had they told him more about what they had planned? Was it enough for him to step up, even if he didn’t know what was going on or why he’d been brought back into this mess?

“I’m sorry Wilbur, but you don’t get to be a knight in shining armour.” Noxite said, his arms gesturing animatedly. “This isn’t a fairytale, this is real life. Sacrificing yourself was never going to save Niki, and it will  _ continue  _ that way. But, since you’re  _ so  _ upset about it, I’ll take you with me. We’ll let Scott have his fun with Niki alone.”

“Wilbur?” Niki risked speaking, and while she was met with Noxite’s head snapping around to face her and a stern glare, there was no further physical repercussion. She remembered hearing that Scott had specifically warned Noxite that her going into shock would have hampered efforts of whatever he had planned, and if she’d already had to recover from one bout then she assumed that Noxite had now been given stern orders not to lay a finger on her again. 

“Niki, I’m so sorry.” He called, his words fast and desperate. Then, as quickly as he’d begun talking, he stopped. She could still hear muffled sounds coming from him, along with a delighted chuckle from Noxite.

“Much better, don’t you think?” He asked, before his attention left Niki entirely and he busied himself with Wilbur. “I’ll probably come and visit again in a few days, you’ll mostly be Scott’s problem now. Do try and behave yourself, it’s only going to be worse for you if you don’t.”

Niki watched on silently as Wilbur was lifted, his body still too weak to fight (though from the strength of his words earlier, it seemed like his mind was returning to him). Noxite didn’t waste another moment before leaving the room, locking the door behind him as if she would be able to get out if he didn’t. She was still restrained to the table by her wrists and ankles, still weak and in pain from everything she had experienced for however long she’d been there.

This time, without the bright lights to blind her, Niki allowed her mind to wander. She thought about Ant. About Bad and Skeppy. About those that had joined their revolution. And she thought about Minx. She hoped and prayed that whatever Velvet had said that had given the Government so much ammunition over her,  _ they  _ were still okay. She hoped that Bad and Skeppy had made their way safely to Pogtopia. She hoped that Ant was still managing to keep his cover, that whatever Velvet had disclosed hadn’t threatened  _ his  _ well-being. She hoped that the other revolutionaries knew better than to immediately meet, but that they wouldn’t disband entirely.

She hoped that Minx would still be able to continue her work to support the people of Manburg. She hoped that, with Bad and Skeppy as proof of Schlatt’s actions, there would be grounds to do  _ something  _ more, something  _ official.  _ That they wouldn’t have a time limit on when international aid would cease.

Niki might not have much any more. Her freedom might have been taken from her, her control over self disappearing quickly after each act of torture she was subject to, but she had hope. And until she was dead and gone, she would cling to that hope for as long as she could. That little flicker, the tiny spark that  _ someone  _ would be able to do something, would live on in her heart. That was something they couldn’t beat out of her.

Time passed, and eventually the room she was in brightened. The door was unlocked and opened, with Scott wheeling in a trolley full of equipment as he made his way toward her.

“Hello!” He smiled brightly, turning down the lights a little more before repositioning them slightly. She watched closely and silently as he fiddled with various screws, tightening them sufficiently to ensure everything was perfect for whatever he had planned for her.

“So, I bet you’re excited for this. Just me and you, we’ll have some _girl talk.”_ He cooed, and Niki felt as if he was belittling her. She was leading a revolution against a corrupt Government, not gossiping in the school yard. “Wilbur’s pretty cute, isn’t he?”

“You are a filthy, murderous snake.” Niki spat, and Scott just rolled his eyes. 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” He said light heartedly, moving closer to her. From there she could see burns on his skin, and she  _ finally  _ managed to put two and two together.

She already  _ knew  _ that the explosion had been staged to frame her, but she didn’t know what had happened as a result of it. Clearly, the injuries he displayed had been sustained then. Which gave her some  _ very  _ useful information. The burns themselves weren’t fresh, but they weren’t healing just yet either. Wherever she was, she hadn’t been there for long. A day or two at most. 

“What are you going to do to me?” Niki asked, because Scott struck her as a  _ different  _ kind of evil. She knew he was going to hurt her, but he wasn’t going to hurt her the way that Noxite did. Noxite hurt her to try and get information from her, he hurt her to try and break her - Scott had been planning this for a while. He’d probably get a kick out of explaining it all to her.

“You already know what I’m going to do to you, Niki.” He smiled, looking at her dangerously close to an equal. He seemed to be the one that  _ didn’t  _ underestimate her, and she supposed it made sense that he only unlocked one ankle at first.

“I’ll explain it anyway, I do love the sound of my own voice.” He smiled, letting her leg dangle off the edge of the table as he started to reposition the stirrup that had been holding it. “In the rice that you ate earlier was some fertility medication, and in the water. Everything you eat or drink for the next few weeks will be laced with it. I know that Noxite has already made the threat to you on force feeding, so rest assured that if it comes to that we’ll continue to provide you with that medicine, you can’t escape it.”

She huffed, and as Scott locked the metal into place he reached for her leg again. She could make it difficult for him, but he would only make it worse for her in retaliation. 

“You’ve probably heard about our health reforms, and you know that Schlatt wants to make the next generation of Manburg stronger than before… Well, the easiest way to do that was through the Championships. Weed out the weak, don’t allow them to respawn, see how the survivors adapt. Technoblade was  _ perfect.  _ He came second overall, he took on a leadership role, he did his best to keep everyone alive, it was exactly what we were looking for. So we downloaded him, and then I got to extract some of his bone marrow. In fact, I did it in  _ this very room.”  _ Scott was nothing less than giddy as he spoke, beaming out a smile that was nothing but unsettling given the conversation at hand. _ “ _ Isn’t that fun to think about? You’re not the first person I’ve performed surgery on here!”

Niki didn’t react. Her ankle was being restrained again, the chains from before holding it in place. This time, her knee was bent to allow her leg to be held open and he began to work on her second ankle. She tried not to think about it.

“After that, we had a little bit of fun. I heard Noxite telling you the story of Jeoffrey the other day. I know that  _ you know  _ we play around with DNA a lot at the Noxcrew, so it was easy to manipulate the bone marrow into sperm cells. And that, Niki, is where the health reforms come in. Every woman of childbearing age is going to be invited for this, though for most of them it’ll be a secret, something slipped in at a routine checkup. You’re special, Niki, you get to  _ know  _ what’s coming.”

She didn’t feel very special, as her second leg was positioned in the stirrup again. After being strapped to the table for so long, though, she did find that there was some relief given to her fatigued muscles. It was a little silver lining, but one that she would embrace.

“So with that fertility medicine and the sperm cells we made, you’re going to undergo a procedure called  _ intrauterine insemination.  _ It sounds very fancy, but it just means that I’m going to directly put the sperm into your womb. Most of the others won’t have anything quite so invasive, it’s difficult to do covertly, but you can’t exactly do anything about this.” He smiled, moving back to her side to grab the tools he needed. 

“Will it hurt?”

“It shouldn’t.” He said, his eyes softening when he spoke. She decided she didn’t like that.  _ Evil  _ suited him better now. “And I mean that genuinely. This isn’t a horrible procedure I’ve invented for the sake of causing you more pain, it’s a tried and test medical method that’s used around the world. You might experience a little cramping, but in about fifteen minutes you’ll barely even remember what was happening.”

“I hardly think I’m going to  _ forget.”  _

Scott hummed to himself, taking a speculum and returning back to Niki’s feet. “No, you won’t  _ forget.  _ And we’ll be doing this regularly, too. Once every other day. We’ll take a pregnancy test once a week starting next week. When we know that it’s been a success you can leave this place.”

Niki’s eyes widened -  _ leave the place?  _ Surely they didn’t mean  _ leave captivity,  _ right? They just meant leave the room, go to a new cell, right? 

While her mind spiralled the next thing that Niki saw was Scott pulling on a set of gloves, and then the speculum was inserted and widened. She let out a gasp at the intrusion. It wasn’t painful, just cold and uncomfortable, and Scott glanced up from his tools to look at her face.

“Just relax.” He told her gently. “It’ll be fine. You’ll have a few minutes to get used to this before we continue.” 

Scott was silent after that, only the sounds of metal against metal and fingers working away quickly to ensure that everything was prepared properly. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it all, she wasn’t sure how she felt about  _ anything  _ anymore, but she supposed that was the point of the torture: it was meant to make it harder for her to have the correct emotional response to things that she was experiencing. There was also the possibility that it was a mercy from her mind, letting her go through it all without the added torment of struggling to cope with trauma. If she let it happen, if she blocked it all out, she’d be okay.

A tube was inserted next, through the opening in the speculum, and that was when she began to feel pain. It was a strange kind of pain, one that she couldn’t really describe, but Scott’s warning of  _ a little cramping  _ felt accurate. Compared to everything else she’d been through, it was easy to adjust to this.

“There you go.” He said. Niki couldn’t see him - she was certain he wasn’t looking at her face, but she could imagine he had other ways of telling whether she was relaxed or not. “Deep breaths. The worst is over now.”

And as he continued, working his way through a procedure that Niki would rather not have (and was glad that she couldn’t see), her mind began to deviate from the situation. She tried to find that hope from before to cling to it again, and she closed her eyes to make that easier. 

The next few minutes passed by quickly, the process of removing the tube hurt a little less than inserting it did, and before long Niki heard the snap of gloves being removed and felt her legs being shifted back into their original position, one by one. She still didn’t know how to feel about the whole thing - she assumed that at some point over the next few days she’d come to an answer - but for now she just swallowed back the unspoken words and the buried feelings. 

“That wasn’t so bad.” Scott told her, moving to walk back to her side. “If you’re lucky you’ll conceive quickly, then this will be over sooner rather than later. Of course, you don’t need to worry about  _ raising  _ the child, that won’t be necessary. You’re a vessel, Schlatt just wants to prove a point with you.”

“You’re going to kill me after I’ve given Schlatt a member of his glorious generation?” Niki asked quietly, and Scott nodded.

“You’re a problem, Niki. We can’t have people getting ideas from you. That said,  _ glorious generation  _ is an excellent idea for a name. I’ll let you off the hook for that one.”

“You’re a monster.” She told him flatly, and Scott came closer. With one hand extended he brought his palm to her cheek, brushing his thumb over her skin.

“I know I am, Niki.” He said gently. “I’ll see you in two days.”

And with those final words, Scott left. He walked beyond the ring of lights and turned the brightness back up - leaving Niki in her void once more. After a few more moments she heard a door close and lock, and then she was truly alone.

It would be two days until the torment returned - hopefully before then someone would visit to feed her - but until then she was going to be alone with nothing more than her mind.

Slowly, involuntarily, her thoughts began to turn to what had just happened to her. She started to think about everything that had happened since she’d sent Bad and Skeppy on their way to Pogtopia, to think about everything that Schlatt had ordered. He hadn’t even been  _ present  _ for it. He had demanded that his cabinet subject her to untold horrors and didn’t even bother to  _ show up.  _

She’d been stripped of her dignity and treated like a child, reminded as she was bathed, fed, dressed and moved around that to them, she was  _ nothing.  _ She was reminded that she had no physical strength over them, and that whatever they  _ wanted  _ to do to her, they could. Her clothes and hair had been taken from her in an effort to remove her identity, something she assumed they had done to try to make her conform. If she didn’t feel like herself, maybe they expected that she wouldn’t act like herself either. If she saw that she could have no outward expression of her personality, maybe they thought she would stop trying to outwardly express her opinions of the Government and its actions.

They’d hurt her. She’d been hit, spat on, left in a void, given various medications, and then - worse than all of that - she’d had a finger removed and was being impregnated for the purpose of creating a genetically superior generation. Schlatt called himself an Emperor, and if he succeeded in creating an army of bioengineered children then who  _ knew  _ what he would do next. When would he stop? When would even  _ he  _ believe he had gone too far?

Niki thought that the white lights weren’t getting to her as much this time, but she’d been wrong. While she’d been quick to consider everything she’d experienced to fill her time she hadn’t thought of the consequences. When her mind came to a stop, when it had catalogued every awful thing that had happened, there was nothing more for her to think about. She was alone. There was nothing to hear, to see, to feel. Nothing was going to change. No one was coming to save her.

She felt a quiet sob leave her chest and she let her head fall to the side, staring at the lights from a different angle as if that would change anything.

“Niki?”

Niki heard her name spoken aloud and her tears stopped. There was no one here. Everyone had left. But she’d  _ heard  _ her name. As if to confirm that she wasn’t going crazy, she heard it again.

“Niki. Listen to me.”

“I don’t…” She whispered, hiccuping quietly. Confused by it all, she rolled her head to look to the other side and saw… Nothing. There was nothing. Nothing and no one in her void but her. 

“You can hear me, can’t you?” The voice asked, and she sniffled.

“I don’t see you.” She replied. After a blink,  _ she did.  _

In front of her was a man. A man that she’d never met, and yet she knew very well. He was known by every man, woman and child in Manburg, and would never be forgotten. Even now, in her delirious state, Niki knew exactly who she was looking at.

“General…” She breathed, and the figure before her smiled softly.

“Hello Niki.” He said, and she found herself comforted. In the back of her mind she knew that she was seeing things, that she was hearing things, and that the man standing before her was a figment of her imagination. General Wilbur was dead, he had been for hundreds of years, but seeing the gruff old man standing before her gave her exactly what she’d been looking for earlier. Hope. If  _ anyone  _ in the history of the country was more symbolic of hope, of overcoming hardship, then Niki hadn’t heard of them.

“You’re doing the right thing.” He told her, and she swore she felt a hand resting on her shoulder. If she closed her eyes she could feel his thumb running over the fabric of her surgical gown and when she opened her eyes he was still standing in front of her. He  _ felt  _ real. “You’re doing everything you can. You’re being the leader that the people of this country need.”

“But I’m here.” She whispered in reply. “How can I lead when I’m in chains?” A sniffle, and the General let out a quiet laugh.

“I asked myself that question a few times, too.” He assured her. “You were a leader before you were brought in, and what Schlatt is doing to you has only made you a martyr in the eyes of those that believe in your cause. Your legacy will continue, your story will guide people to action, and when you leave this prison - because I know that you will - you  _ will  _ lead your people into a better tomorrow.”

Niki ignored the part of her mind that reminded her that this was all just a hallucination. She ignored the rational part of her that said that these words were meaningless - that she was hearing what she needed and wanted to hear, regardless of how true it could be. She clung to the fact that the General that had led L’Manburg to independence was telling her that she could do this.

“Don’t lose yourself like I did, Niki. Trust in your friends, you aren’t alone in this.”

“I’ll make you proud.” Niki said quietly, and the hand she felt on her shoulder moved to her cheek.

“I’m already proud of you, Niki.” He reassured, and she leaned into the phantom touch, closing her eyes as she started to hum. As the melody became apparent, she heard the General start to sing the song that he had written all that time ago.

“For freedom and for liberty…”

She smiled a little wider, keeping her eyes closed as she felt her body starting to sink into unconsciousness. She would be asleep before long, but until then she would sing with the General her imagination had created.

“Our Nation sought to build on these, a victory for all under democracy. Well darkness came, and there it went: we built a home and watched it sink.”

Niki paused for a moment, listening to the General as he sung the next line.

“And there from rubble, there emerged L’Manburg.”

“My L’Manburg…” They sung together, the feeling of a hand on her cheek disappearing. “My L’Manburg, my L’Manburg…”

With the final phrase, the hallucination left her. Niki finished the chorus alone, the smile not leaving her face as she fell into a deep slumber.

“My L’Manburg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tldr time!
> 
> \- niki is visited again. velvet feeds her some rice and lets her drink some water. before her questioning is resumed, noxite reveals wilbur. he's been downloaded and is being used against her - if she doesn't answer his questions one of them will be hurt.  
> \- after refusing to answer the first question, noxite calls tommy forward, who chops off a finger - the same one that technoblade had to remove from tubbo during sands of time.  
> \- she goes into shock, and upon waking up she is questioned again despite not being lucid. when noxite still threatens her, wilbur complains that he never would have agreed to join them had he known that noxite would go back on his promise to stop hurting niki.   
> \- niki is told that her knuckle had a skin graft in her sleep, and is then left alone. scott returns several minutes later and carries out an iui - an intrauterine insemination - and tells her that until she's pregnant she'll have the procedure every other day  
> \- after being left alone one final time, surrounded by the blinding lights of white torture, niki begins to hallucinate. she sees general wilbur, who led l'manburg to independence hundreds of years ago, and he reassures her that she's doing the right thing. they sing part of the national anthem together, before general wilbur disappears and niki falls unconscious.
> 
> \------------
> 
> HOLY SHIT IT HIT 150K?!?!?! FEAST OR FAMINE IS DONE!!!!
> 
> i've been writing this since october, it's insane that it's being going on for so long & has received SO MUCH love. thank you to everyone that's been reading along, your support means the world. if you haven't, please do leave a comment, please leave a kudos, come say hi on twitter or discord. 
> 
> you're probably wondering when the next fic comes out... well, keep a close watch in the tags because "Monsters and Men" will have the first chapter posted on march 3! hope to see you all then!! stay safe!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, thanks for reading! It's strange to be writing in a different Universe to the Manhunt AU but let me tell you it's a lot of fun! As always I'd appreciate any feedback you have, if you have a team you're rooting for or any theories or just want to yell at me, I always love hearing from you guys!
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/moonieiswriting) or [Tumblr](https://amooniesong.tumblr.com/), and if you'd like to join my [Discord server](https://discord.gg/berzY3JvqN) feel free to join! You can also listen to a playlist I've made for this fic on [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6J6OvwBp6ZRYH64pfH6djl?si=TKbdu0-WQFud7tvbSLxOHw)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [4 Reactions to Tubbo’s Close Call](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197668) by [Aegrimonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegrimonia/pseuds/Aegrimonia)
  * [What If? Feast or Famine AU One-Shots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28596426) by [Leia_Bunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leia_Bunny/pseuds/Leia_Bunny)




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